


Second Life

by Arionrhod, McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 02:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10957479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arionrhod/pseuds/Arionrhod, https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: After a potion's effects go awry, Severus finds himself forging an unexpected connection with Remus Lupin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2010.

"The best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry," Severus muttered to himself as he stood in the shadows of the bushes outside Hogwarts, peering in through the windows of the Great Hall with annoyance. That he was standing at all was remarkable; the fact he wasn't dead was both a miracle and a source of incredible consternation. The plans _he_ had laid had been infallible, or so he'd thought, but as always, the fickle hand of fate had reached down to give the cauldron of his life a stir, sending things spinning once more out of his control.

He wasn't _supposed_ to have survived his final confrontation with Voldemort. In fact, he'd planned for that, counted on it, done almost everything he could to assure that those would be his final moments, and that what happened would not be out of his control. His duping of the Dark Lord had to come to light eventually, and so he'd made many contingency plans to cover his arse and make sure that the things he wanted to occur would do so despite his death. In fact, they should have only happened _because_ of his death, and since that had been denied him, he had one hell of a mess to clean up before someone came along and spoiled everything.

It had seemed so easy - the memories he'd carefully prepared in order to screw with Potter's mind, the delayed-release pain draught he'd take to ease the torture he'd known was to come. Then there were the Howlers, a half-dozen of them set to be delivered as soon as he'd expired, expressing his final vitriol to those who'd doubted him and reviled him for what Albus had forced him to do. It was petty, perhaps, to want to rub the noses of certain people in it, but Severus had never claimed to be a noble man. He couldn't snark at them personally, but at least he'd gone to the Shrieking Shack knowing that the cosmic last word would be his. 

But the most important and elaborate part of his self-chosen epitaph had been the potion. It had taken him weeks to brew it, the process made incredibly difficult because of the need to keep it secret from everyone. The Vita Pro Vita potion wasn't Dark magic, although it could certainly be used that way, and Severus had no desire for it to fall into any hands save those for which it was intended.

 _Life for a life_ was the literal translation of the potion's name, and that was basically its function as well. Severus had endowed the potion with a link to own his life force, so that when Severus knew death was imminent, all the strength left to him would be transferred to the one who had consumed it. It formed a bond between them of a rather special nature, allowing Severus' death to actually _mean_ something positive, helping someone rather than just ending as a pool of blood on the floor, wasted and useless. And it had worked, too; he had been certain of it as his vision had faded and his limbs had grown numb, the coldness of death stealing over him in a manner that was almost peaceful. Then everything had gone black.

The only problem was that dead people weren't supposed to wake up.

That had been a huge shock, when he'd opened his eyes to find himself still breathing, his skin stuck to the rough floorboards by his own drying blood. He was weak, but with every breath he took, he could feel some tiny measure of strength flowing back into him. It took several moments for him to realize what had happened, and when he did, he was almost tempted to _Avada Kedavra_ himself with his own wand, just to have done with it. But the link with the one who'd drank the potion was still there, and Severus realized, to his horror, that somehow the effects had reversed. He was getting stronger, but at the expense of the person he'd been trying to save. He could feel the fragile life force that was feeding his own, and he realized that if he didn't do something, no doubt he was going to end up living by causing the death of the only remaining person on Earth he cared a rat's arse about. And that was simply unacceptable.

He'd somehow managed to reach his wand, using his own barely-existent strength to cast a healing spell on himself, in hopes of slowing down the drain. It seemed to help, and after a few minutes, he did another. At that point, he managed to reach into the pocket of his robes for a healing draught, glad for the paranoia of his own contingency planning which had caused him to place it there. Before long, he managed to haul himself into a sitting position, and after another healing spell, he'd been able to use the wreck of the nearby sofa to actually gain his feet. He staggered like a drunkard for several moments, but he was recovering quickly. Too quickly, perhaps, given the frailty of the life he could feel connected to his. All he could do was follow that tenuous connection, find the recipient and, hopefully, sever the connection before the unthinkable happened. It would be the ultimate irony if he managed to kill the one person he'd been most desperate to save.

Dawn was beginning to lighten the sky to the east as Severus made his way toward the castle, keeping himself hidden as much as he could. Fortunately the battle seemed to be over, and while the evidence was around him as to the damage - not to mention the bodies of slain Death Eaters dotting the landscape - there was a surprising lack of living souls to observe his approach. That suited him fine, since there was a great chance that anyone of the Order who spotted him would simply kill him on sight. At the moment, he would still be considered an enemy, and he had to avoid getting killed before he carried out his task.

He made it to the castle miraculously unobserved, although his first peek into the windows showed him why that was likely the case. He'd thought the Hall would be set up as a hospital, since it was the largest space in the castle. Unfortunately, however, the space had been claimed for what was obviously the morgue.

Wincing, he looked down the line of bodies laid out in neat rows, arms folded across their chests, blood wiped away as much as possible. So many dead, despite all that he had done to try to protect them. Adults and students laid out side-by-side like wooden soldiers in a child's toy chest, only these toys were broken and would never come back to fight another day.

Well, one of them would, if Severus had anything to say about it. He scowled as his eyes found the one he sought, laid out as though he were so much meat like the rest of them. Idiots! Obviously it must have escaped whoever was in charge to try the most basic detection spells; if someone looked dead, they were apparently being treated as though they _were_ dead, and Severus rolled his eyes.

"Today is your lucky day," he muttered, then crept slowly forward around the side of the building, toward the antechamber near the High Table. There was a door there, one that only professors knew of, and he could use it to get into the Great Hall without being seen.

Severus proceeded with cautious haste, torn between his desire to get in and out as quickly as possible and his paranoia of being caught and stopped, perhaps even killed, before he could do what he must. He stopped every few feet to listen intently, relieved that there seemed to be no one actually about. Perhaps they were off celebrating, or mourning, or even collapsed in exhaustion after the battle, but whatever the reason, Severus was simply glad that no one was getting in his way. After a few minutes that seemed like hours, he reached the door, pressing the hidden mechanism which opened it. It swung open silently, and Severus peeped inside, pleased to note it was empty and that even the frame which held the normally irascible portrait of Violet was empty. Nothing stood in his way, and Severus made his way more quickly now, moving through the antechamber and out in to the Great Hall.

He tried not to look at the bodies, flowing between and around them, unwilling to put names to the dead as yet. Of course, there was no way to avoid recognizing a flash of Weasley red from the corner of his eye, but he didn't pause to deduce which one of them it was. Instead he kept going until he stood beside his target, and only then did he look down into the face of the man he had tried to save. Almost the only person left alive - and he _was_ alive! - toward whom Severus felt anything other than contempt.

Remus Lupin.

Lupin looked peaceful despite the obvious curse damage from whatever spell had nearly killed him. The lines in his forehead and around his eyes had smoothed out, making him look younger, more relaxed than when Severus had last seen him. There was more grey threaded through his hair than Severus remembered, too, and he had little doubt as to the cause. Minerva had been succinct enough about _that_ , and Severus had refused to admit even to himself at the time that his reaction toward Lupin's marriage was anything other than a sort of disgust. It was impossible to miss, however, that Lupin's wife lay next to him in death. How like a Black, to be unwilling to let go of the man she wanted even if it meant hounding him into the hypothetical afterlife.

Severus couldn't tell how the persistent Nymphadora had died, and frankly he didn't care, although the sight didn't give him quite the satisfaction he might have thought. He slowly lowered himself down into a crouch next to Lupin, reaching out to touch his hand where it lay on his chest. "At least you won't have to suffer her in eternity - or at least not yet," he murmured quietly. Lupin, of course, gave no response, but Severus was no longer worried that Lupin was going to expire at once. This close, he could feel Lupin's life force more strongly, and he could tell that although weak, it wasn't fading completely, even if it was continuing to fuel Severus' own recovery. Severus scowled, although when he spoke again, it was with more resignation than ire. "It wasn't supposed to be like this, you know. Damned contrary werewolf, it must be your innate healing ability that messed up the effect of the potion. You always had a talent for mucking up my plans."

He had thought to simply try to sever the magical bond created by the potion, but now that the time had come, Severus found himself reluctant to do so. This was probably the only connection he'd ever have to Lupin, and he was suddenly loathe to remove it. Besides, he didn't know what would happen if he did. He might end up killing Lupin after all, and that was something he simply couldn't tolerate, not after all he'd gone through. No... there was too much at stake. The only thing for it was to take Lupin with him until the man had recovered enough that the effects of the potion could be safely removed. In fact, they might even fade on their own, which would be even better.

Reaching into a pocket of his robes, Severus pulled out his final contingency plan, holding the small thimble tightly in his palm. He glanced over at Tonks, his lips curving in a humorless smile. "I imagined trying to take him away from you a time or two, I admit... although I never pictured it happening quite like this." With that, Severus gripped Lupin's hand and triggered the Portkey. He didn't know what people would think when they found Lupin's body gone, but he really didn't care. Hogwarts was now a part of his past, and while he never thought he'd have a future, he suddenly found himself considering it with something almost like anticipation.


	2. Chapter 2

Remus never expected to wake up. The one thing he remembered clearly from his last conscious moments, aside from the flash of sickly green light, was knowing he was about to die as he stared at Dolohov, his stunning spell fired an instant too late. He remembered feeling some regret, but mostly relief, and then there was nothing. As he lay there, he thought he remembered seeing his friends and talking to Harry, but that might have been merely a delusion. What wasn't a delusion was the fact that he was, against all possible odds, still alive, since he doubted it was possible to wake up in the afterlife with his chest as sore as if he'd taken a direct hit from a bludger and insistent demands from his bladder. He'd always assumed being dead meant never having to feel pain, much less pee, so the only logical conclusion was that he was still alive.

He cracked his eyes open and peeked out at the world, but doing so provided no answers. The room wasn't a drab, sterile ward at St. Mungo's, and it wasn't the bedroom in Tonks' flat. The furniture was too dark and masculine, and the light streaming through the window was dim, as if filtered through a heavy canopy of leaves. Wherever he was, he was far from London. For a moment, he wondered if he'd been taken captive by Death Eaters, but he supposed he'd be in a cell, not tucked into a comfortable bed with a firm mattress and plump pillows if that were the case.

His attempt to push back the covers proved futile; he was as weak as a kitten, thus getting out of bed and finding out where he was on his own was out of the question. He would simply have to lie there and wait to see if anyone turned up.

Severus was used to being alone, and thus the sound of Lupin stirring in the other room cut through even his prodigious powers of concentration, causing him to immediately drop the spoon with which he'd been stirring the healing draught in his cauldron. It had been almost three days since he'd brought Lupin to his private sanctuary, days in which Lupin had very, very slowly seemed to recover. Severus was recovering as well, and he'd been aiding them both along with what salves and potions he'd had on hand, which wasn't nearly as many as he would have liked given the circumstances. He had been both hoping and dreading Lupin's awakening, running over in his mind what he would say, and what he _couldn't_ say, when Lupin finally regained consciousness.

Drawing in a deep breath, he moved into the bedroom where he'd placed Lupin in his own bed. Lupin was awake, Severus had no doubt of that, and so he crossed to the bed and stood looking down at Lupin somberly. "Welcome back to the land of the living," he said quietly. "Are you in any pain?"

Remus was stunned to see Severus enter the room, and he was horrified by the thought that everything had been in vain and Harry had failed. "It's over, then?" he croaked, his voice rough and weak. "Your lot won? I suppose that means Harry is dead."

Severus grimaced; he should have known Lupin would have believed the worst, but a small part of him had hoped it would be different, that Lupin would have known Severus was incapable of really betraying Albus or the Order. "My lot won, yes," he said, tilting his chin up as pride surfaced to squelch the disappointment and pain. "But what you fail to realize is that my lot always was the Order. Potter defeated the Dark Lord, and is no doubt off now celebrating with his numerous admirers."

Remus stared up at him, wide-eyed and stunned into silence for a moment. "No, I didn't realize..." This unexpected revelation was too much for his muddled mind to assimilate, but somehow, it never occurred to him to doubt Severus' claim. "I'm sorry, but I didn't know."

The apology mollified Severus somewhat, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment of it. "You weren't meant to know. No one was," he admitted. "That was Albus' plan. I killed him, which everyone knows, but what they didn't know is that Albus forced me to swear an Unbreakable Vow to do so. He was dying anyway, withering away from the effects of breaking one of the Horcruxes. He wanted his death to mean something, so he forced me to do it to secure my position as Voldemort's most loyal servant."

Remus nodded, accepting the explanation at face value. It made sense in context with what little Remus knew about what was going on with Albus that year, and the fact that he was alive and resting in comfort rather than dead or languishing in a cell assured him that Severus was telling the truth. "Obviously, it worked," he said.

Severus shrugged. "It had the effect Albus wished," he said neutrally. He knew it had to be done, but it didn't mean he'd _wanted_ to do it, or that he'd liked Albus' manipulations. Dumbledore's greatest flaw, Severus had always thought, was in being so focused on the ultimate goal that he lost sight of what he did to the people he was using, but he pulled himself back from that line of thought, which only made him frustrated and bitter. He held up a hand. "Before we get into any more explanations, I'll ask again: are you in pain, or do you need anything? There's plenty of time for me to tell you what I know of the end of the war, but it would be just as easy if you heard them without suffering. Unless that's what you prefer, of course."

"My chest hurts," Remus replied, and then he glanced away, feeling awkward about voicing his other need. "And... er... I could use a trip to the loo."

"Let me help you to the loo, and I'll fetch you a pain potion," Severus replied briskly. It was easy enough to talk about the war, about what happened and his part in it, and at least while they were discussing that Lupin wouldn't be asking questions about how he had gotten where he currently was, or, worse yet, why Severus had done it. He still hadn't come up with anything he was comfortable saying as yet, but he knew he'd have to get there eventually. In the meantime, distracting Lupin and making sure his physical needs were met would give him a chance to delay for a bit longer.

He bent down, sliding an arm beneath Lupin's shoulders. "Let me know if I move too quickly," he said, then carefully began to help Lupin raise himself into a sitting position.

Remus moved slowly, wincing as his battered body protested, but he was distracted from the discomfort by Severus' unexpected solicitousness. He couldn't remember Severus ever touching him before, and while he knew Severus was acting out of necessity, it was still surprising and disconcerting to be in such close proximity to someone who had persecuted and hated him for years. Still, it was obvious that he wasn't capable of getting up and around on his own, and so he leaned on Severus as he climbed out of bed and stood on shaky, weak legs.

"Slowly," Severus said. He'd had a few days of taking care of Lupin to get over the oddness of touching him, and he found, much to his surprise, that he didn't mind caring for Lupin or providing for his needs. It was to be only a fleeting pleasure, he knew, since Lupin would no doubt leave just as soon as he was able, but Severus was going to take advantage of it while he could. It was selfish, but at least he was doing Lupin some good at the same time.

He moved his arm to encircle Lupin's waist. "Put your arm around my shoulders so I can support your weight."

Remus glanced sidelong at Severus, knowing he looked as dubious as he felt, but he did as he was told. Surprisingly, he didn't feel any tension radiating from Severus or any sign that Severus was trying to hold himself away from Remus; he expected to be made acutely aware of Severus' distaste of having to touch him so intimately, but there were no obvious signs of anything of the kind, which puzzled him. Right now, his full attention was on getting to the loo without collapsing, and he saved his questions until he wasn't preoccupied with staying upright.

Fortunately it wasn't far to the loo. It wasn't that Severus minded have Lupin's arm around him at all, but he was worried about Lupin overtaxing himself by doing too much. He'd changed Lupin into one of his own nightshirts for ease in caring for him, and hopefully it would be a help now in that Lupin wouldn't have to muck with trousers.

"There, we made it," he said, assisting Lupin into the small room. There was barely enough room for both of them inside, and he looked around with a frown, not having thought about trying to make it more usable by someone in a weakened condition. Pulling his wand from his robe, he quickly transfigured the towel bar into a thicker, sturdier support. "Do you think you could hold on to that? Or would you prefer for me to support you?"

Remus shook his head, drawing the line at anyone hovering over him while he attended to nature's call. "I don't feel that much worse than I do the morning after a transformation," he said. "I can manage."

"All right," Severus said, moving Lupin's arm to the bar and stepping back. "But I'll be right outside the door, just in case." He turned, stepping out and closing the door behind him, giving Lupin his privacy but ready to barge back in if necessary. He'd not rescued Lupin and cared for him for days just to have the man collapse and dash his brains out against the basin because of his sense of modesty.

Remus grabbed the bar and held on tightly, grateful to find himself wearing a nightshirt rather than pajamas, although he was chagrined to find a lack of underpants. How he'd gotten in this state of undress was something he didn't want to think about overly much. He was sweating and shaking by the time he finished up and washed his hands, but he made it to the door and opened it, tossing pride aside in favor of reaching for Severus' arm again.

"Ready to sit down now," he said, his voice sounding weaker than he liked.

"Really? I rather thought you were ready to play Quidditch," Severus said dryly, even as he slid his arm around Lupin's waist again. "I'll get you settled, then bring the pain potion. After that, perhaps you'll be ready for something to eat. Broth and toast, I think. If you keep that down, we can progress to soup."

"Quidditch should probably wait until tomorrow," Remus replied as he slid one arm around Severus and leaned more heavily against him on the return trip to the bedroom. "I'd like a pain potion, but I'd rather have answers than food right now. I don't feel terribly hungry."

"All right." Severus said the words more calmly than he actually felt, but he knew there was no fighting the inevitable. He could also simply refuse to answer some things if he didn't wish to do so; it wasn't as though Lupin were capable of storming out the door.

He helped Lupin back to the bed, then drew his wand again. "Accio pain potion!" he said, and a small blue bottle came sailing in from the kitchen. Severus uncorked it, and held it out to Lupin. "Slowly - you don't want it coming back up again."

Remus climbed into bed and settled against the pillows with a grateful sigh, and he sipped the potion slowly as instructed; it was a strong one, and he could feel the crushing pain in his chest beginning to fade to a dull ache in a matter of a minute or two, which was a welcome relief.

"Thank you," he said as he handed the vial back to Severus. "Now if you don't mind answering a few questions, I'd like to know where I am and where my son is. I'd also like to know how I survived and why you're the one taking care of me."

Numbly Severus took the vial, hiding his internal sense of dismay over that last question. "You are in a cottage in the Forbidden Forest. It's well shielded and quite remote, but Hogwarts is relatively close by," he said, focusing on the easiest question first. "As far as your son... I have no idea, but I would hazard a guess that he is with your mother-in-law." He steeled himself for the next answers, deciding to be truthful, if not forthcoming. Lying was always easier if it contained a core of truth. "You survived because you are a werewolf, no doubt. And I am taking care of you because if I hadn't, your dunderheaded friends would no doubt have you already interred in a cozy sarcophagus for two, and the wizarding wireless would be spouting some maudlin song about the tragic love of Remus and Nymphadora." Severus' tone had turned waspish, but he couldn't help it. Really.

Remus suppressed a shiver at the thought of being buried alive, and his stomach clenched at the "tragic love" descriptor. He knew Tonks was dead; he'd seen her fall mere moments before Dolohov attacked him, but he wasn't overwhelmed with grief at her loss, as awful a man as it might make him to feel so little for his wife's death. But the hard, cold truth was that he cared more about his son than about her, and he was relieved that he would have a chance to raise Teddy and be the good father he wanted to be after all.

"Shows how little they know," he muttered, and then he glanced up at Severus. "Does anyone know I'm here?"

"No." Severus didn't draw a sigh of relief that Lupin had accepted his explanations, no matter how tempting it was. "Considering that no one except perhaps Potter has any clue that I wasn't on Voldemort's side, I didn't think that trying to explain their error would go over very well. They had you laid out in the morgue ready for a shroud, so I decided that since they'd binned you, no one would much care if you disappeared for a bit."

Remus blanched and shuddered at the description of his near death experience, and he frowned, feeling a little twinge of hurt over how easily he'd been relegated to the morgue. Apparently no one had known or perhaps hadn't cared to see if his difference - his curse - had offered him any additional protection that normal wizards didn't have. But no, it was easier to push him aside and forget him as it had been his entire life. It was the ultimate irony that Severus, of all people, had been the only one to make any extra effort on his behalf.

"How did you know?" he asked, searching Severus' face intently. " _I_ didn't even know werewolves could survive the Killing Curse. For that matter, why did you bother? Why didn't you let them bury me? I would have thought you'd be happy to let me rot."

Severus drew himself up, crossing his arms over his chest - a defensive maneuver, but he couldn't stop himself. He had to figure out a way to put Lupin off, even though he was remarkably hesitant to lie for once. Then it hit him... he didn't have to lie - he simply had to continue to tell the truth. Just not all of it.

"Did Minerva give you a potion a few days ago?" he asked. "Perhaps with your Wolfsbane?"

Remus blinked, startled by the question, and he shook his head. "I don't know. She gave me the Wolfsbane potion on schedule, but if there was anything else in it, she didn't tell me."

"Ah... I suppose she didn't want you to suspect. But it had to be you who received it," Severus replied, nodding as though he were making an assumption so that Lupin wouldn't twig to what had really happened. "You see, I knew I was doomed, that once Voldemort realized what I had done, he would kill me. So I brewed a special potion, one that would transfer my life force to another just before I died. Like Albus, I wanted my death to have some small amount of meaning to it, rather than just being a pointless coda to a life filled with far too many mistakes and regrets. Minerva, it seems, gave it to you, since I wished it to go to someone who needed it."

Remus listened, growing more incredulous with every word, and he shook his head, scarcely able to believe what he'd heard. "That doesn't make sense. Not that you would do such a thing, I mean, but that she would give it to _me_. I've always been _quite_ aware that I'm expendable," he added, a hint of bitterness lacing his voice as he thought about all the times he'd been used, from Sirius's 'prank' to Dumbledore offering him a lifeline that had been nothing but an illusion to Tonks dragging him into marriage and parenthood. "It would make far more sense if she had given it to Harry or one of the other children, not me."

Severus knew he had to be careful, lest he reveal too much, but he hated to see Lupin doubting himself; and to be honest, he was slightly warmed by the fact that Lupin's incredulity didn't extend to the fact that Severus had wanted to do something positive. "I think it's obvious that someone does care and think that you're worth saving," he said firmly, "because you were given the potion. As far as I've been able to work out in the last couple of days, we must have 'died' almost simultaneously. My life force must have been enough to keep the Killing Curse from working completely. Then your lycanthrope healing kicked in, and somehow the bond the potion made allowed your life force to come back to me, saving my life in turn. I assure you, that wasn't meant to happen. You no doubt would have recovered far more quickly if your lycanthropy hadn't been healing us both. Maybe even fast enough that they wouldn't have buried you alive."

"You saved me, I saved you... We don't owe each other a life debt, then, but I do owe you thanks," Remus said, gazing at Severus somberly. "Even if you didn't intend the potion to go to me, I appreciate it. I love my son, and I wanted to be a good father. I have the chance to do that now, thanks to you." He paused, running Severus' explanation around in his mind. Something was niggling at him, and then it clicked. "You mentioned a bond," he said slowly. "What did you mean by that?"

"Ah." Severus shrugged slightly, bowing to the inevitable, although he'd hoped that Lupin would drop the subject. "The potion creates a bond between the person who brewed it and the one who receives it. One that is normally broken by death, obviously. I'm not certain if it's your lycanthropy or the fact that we both ended up surviving... but it's still there. It's how I found you, in fact. How I knew with utter certainty that you were alive. So I took you from the morgue, since there was no way I was going to let them bury you." He looked away, not wanting Lupin to see anything in his eyes. "Despite what you think, Lupin, I don't hate or despise you. I loathed your friends and I was furious about what Black did in almost getting me killed, but I'm not so stupid that I didn't realize even then that if you _had_ bitten me, you'd have been put down by the Ministry no matter what Dumbledore had to say in the matter. I thought about breaking the bond, but I wasn't sure if I did that we might not both die. I thought it better to allow you to recover, and then... well, we can both decide what should be done. For all I know, when we are both completely healed, the bond will simply disappear on its own."

That revelation shocked Remus; he'd assumed that Severus loathed him as much as Sirius and James, especially after Severus had outed him as a werewolf and, thanks to Umbridge's anti-werewolf agenda, caused his quality of life to diminish even further, not to rebound until he married Tonks. He was disconcerted to learn he was bonded to Severus as well; he'd already been shackled to someone, and once was enough. Then again, he didn't imagine Severus was much happier about it than he was, even if Severus didn't really hate him.

"Let's hope so," he said at last. "I don't hate you either, but I think I'm safe in assuming we've both had enough of being locked into situations we didn't ask for or want for one lifetime."

Severus went cold inside, as the tiny bit of unacknowledged hope he'd felt shriveled and died. It was some consolation that Lupin didn't hate him, but it was obvious that Lupin didn't want any connection to him whatsoever, no matter how tenuous. He had been a fool for hoping, of course, and he had only himself to blame. He'd learned long ago that people only valued him for what they could use him for, and while Lupin might be grateful that Severus had saved his life, that was the end of it.

"If you are done with questions for the moment, I should return to the potion I was brewing," he said, needing to escape from Lupin's presence if only for a few minutes. "Would you care for that broth now, or would you like to rest?"

"Rest, I think," Remus replied, sinking back against the pillows wearily. He had a lot to think about and process, and he was feeling drained just from a slow trip to the loo and back; sleep was far more appealing than food at the moment. "Thank you, Severus," he added. "I appreciate what you've done for me, especially since I imagine it's been an inconvenience having to deal with an unexpected bond to me. I'll find a way to pay you back, if I can."

"You don't have anything to thank me for," Severus said, giving a small shrug. "You saved my life, too, so, as you said, there is no debt. I don't need repayment." _Nor could anything you'd be willing to offer me match what I would want from you._ "Sleep, then - you'll recover faster so you can get back to where you belong."

"Wherever that is," Remus murmured, plucking restlessly at the covers. But he couldn't think about the obstacles ahead right now; it was enough that he was alive and had a second chance, and he would focus on that for the time being. "Anyway, we'll talk about whether or not I can repay you in some way later," he said in a normal tone of voice, a stubborn line appearing between his brows. "After I've regained some strength."

"Later," Severus agreed, moving to the doorway. He didn't want to argue with Lupin, not now. "Call me if you need anything, all right? I'll leave the door open so that I can hear you."

"All right." Remus nodded and settled in, releasing a weary sigh as his eyelids drooped and he felt the pull of sleep as soon as he closed his eyes. Thinking and processing would just have to wait, but at least he had time to do both in the new life stretching out ahead of him.


	3. Chapter 3

"If you aren't careful, you fool, you're going to end up looking like a complete idiot." 

Severus glared at his reflection in the mirror, scowling at himself with as fierce an expression as he'd ever turned on a Gryffindor. He had good reason to give himself stern reminder, he thought. For some reason, Lupin seemed to be drawing more information from him than he'd intended to give, and Severus had to guard against revealing anything which might disclose his real motivation for brewing the potion and the fact that Lupin had been the intended recipient from the start.

Severus drew a deep breath, using these few moments of privacy to gather his thoughts and strengthen his resolve. He'd already been a complete idiot for cherishing even the faintest notion that Lupin might suddenly decide that Severus was the one he desired, and he knew he was going to berate himself for that weakness often in the long, lonely years stretching before him. Lupin had made it clear enough that despite being grateful, a tie to Severus was unacceptable, even if it was one that had saved his life - _both_ of their lives. He obviously wanted to get away from Severus as soon as possible, and it would be best if Severus just kept his mouth should and facilitated that action to the best of his ability.

The problem was that his attraction to Lupin had only become stronger in the time Severus had been caring for him. Touching Lupin and seeing to his needs had only underscored how empty Severus' life had been of a real connection. He had acquaintances, and he'd had two masters, and perhaps one or two people who regarded him with some amount of respect, like Minerva. But in all other ways, Severus was a loner, holding himself apart from the pain and disappointment of entanglements. If one had only oneself to rely upon, after all, there was less of a chance of being let down or hurt.

Yet Lupin had done what he had always done, even unconscious; he got under Severus' skin, made him long for things which were impossible. His fascination had endured from the time they'd been children, when he'd followed around Potter and Black, wanting to know what was so special about _them_ which had earned Lupin's loyalty. At the time, he hadn't known what had drawn him to Lupin, who was quiet and bookish and who seemed to go out of his way to fade into the background whenever possible. It hadn't even been physical interest at first, or at least not obviously so, since he'd not even entered puberty. He just knew that the soft-spoken boy with the fascinating eyes drew him like a magnet, luring him closer, making Severus long to be around him and causing him to resent the ones who, by accident of a stupid old hat, got that right without earning it.

As he'd gotten older, the interest had turned to longing, to dreams involving heated skin and roving hands, lips and tongues and moaning voices. He knew that he didn't dare speak of these feelings, for by then the antipathy between him and the Black-Potter two-headed moron had bloomed into full blown war. It frustrated him and made him angry, made him want to lash out, and he'd certainly done so often enough. Eventually, of course, that had led him somewhat inevitably toward the Shrieking Shack; how ironic, then, that he'd nearly died there twice, once at the hands of the one he loved hopelessly, and then again because of the man he had come to hate above all others.

At least finding out about Lupin's lycanthropy had provided an explanation for the fascination in which Severus had held him. Like to like, in a way, for Severus had always known that he, too, was a dark creature. The knowledge hadn't been comforting, however; it had made him even more furious, that Lupin was one of the Golden Gryffindors while Severus was despised and reviled when they were really no different inside. It was an anger which had driven him into a series of rash acts which had led inexorably toward tragedy. Perhaps Lily could have talked him back from the brink, but by the time everything had come to a head, he'd seen her as being on _their_ side. And then she was dead, and Severus was left with the knowledge he'd lost the only person who'd ever been his friend and blown any chance of ever drawing Lupin to his side.

Grimacing, Severus turned away from the mirror before his internal ruminations lead him back to anger once again. He knew that the darkness in Lupin drew him and always would, but there was no more of a chance for it to become more now than when Lupin had been with Potter and Black. The harsh fact was that Lupin didn't share Severus' longing, and he never would; Severus had been a fool for cherishing even the slightest belief that it ever would happen. It was time to get himself back to reality, steel himself for Lupin's departure and start making plans for the solitary remainder of his own life.

He left the loo, then stopped outside the open bedroom door, peering in to watch Lupin sleep. He forced down the images which rose to his mind of the both of them in the bed, entwined and sated. It wasn't to be, and it was well past time that he accepted the fact and stopped acting like an adolescent in the throes of his first crush.

Remus stirred and drifted toward wakefulness slowly, enjoying the warm, safe cocoon offered by sleep too much to let go without reluctance; the bed was far more comfortable than any he'd slept in, including his marriage bed. That bed itself had been serviceable, but it was difficult to relax when one's bedmate was not of one's choosing. At least here, he wasn't under any pressure to perform. When he could hold off waking up no longer, he opened his eyes and indulged in a luxurious stretch before glancing around to see if he could get any sense of what time of day it was, and his gaze fell on Severus, who was standing in the doorway.

"Hello, Severus," he said, his voice sleep-husky, and he smiled drowsily. "I'd say good morning, but I'm not sure it _is_ morning."

Severus' mouth went dry as he watched Lupin stretch. Even though his body was hidden by bedclothes and a nightshirt, the sight of Lupin elongating his body, an expression of indulgence on his face, hit Severus like a punch to the stomach, waking his libido and threatening all the good done by his stern admonitions to himself. Then Lupin spoke, and the deep tone of his voice sent a shiver right down Severus' spine.

He was sure he was staring like a starving man, and with all the force of his not-inconsiderable will, he drew in a breath and made himself answer rather than running to the bed and ravishing Lupin where he lay. "It's late morning," he replied, his own voice slightly husky. "Do you need the loo again?"

"Yes, please," Remus replied, momentarily taken aback by the intensity with which Severus was looking at him, and for a moment, he wondered if he was about to be on the wrong end of a hex for being a pain in Severus' arse. "Do you happen to have my wand? I'd love to conjure a toothbrush while I'm up and maybe try a cleaning charm. I can take care of it myself if you have things to do," he added quickly, not wanting to impose on Severus more than he already had. "I don't want to interrupt your work."

"You wand was in your robes," Severus replied, moving into the room and toward his small clothespress. He'd cleaned Lupin's robes when he'd changed Lupin into the nightshirt, and he had even gone so far as to repair the damage done to them in the battle. He felt a sinking feeling at Remus' request, however, since it only underscored that Lupin wanted to be away from him as quickly as possible.

He opened the press, reaching in to remove Lupin's robes. He retrieved Lupin's wand from the pocket, then crossed to the bed, holding it out with a somber expression. "I would never have rescued you if I'd minded the attendant duties," he said. "I won't try to hold you back from doing what you like, however; although I do suggest taking it slowly and not overtaxing yourself. I have no idea if overexertion might slow down your recovery."

"Point taken." Remus smiled wryly as he took his wand, and he paused, not rushing to throw back the covers. "I hate to feel like I'm imposing, that's all. I figure you, of all people, understand being fiercely self-sufficient out of necessity. I don't want to give myself a set-back, though, so..." He pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, and then he held out his hand to Severus in a silent request for a helping hand in return.

Severus hesitated for only a fraction of a moment before holding out his hand in return to assist Lupin; he might as well enjoy what small contact he could before Lupin recovered and left. "I do understand, yes," he agreed. "No doubt I shall have to become even more so myself in the near future."

"Oh?" Remus gripped Severus' hand tightly as he pushed himself to his feet and stood shakily. Feeling unstable, he grasped Severus' arm, steadying himself before trying to move forward. "Why is that?"

Severus let Lupin cling to him, knowing that Lupin was only doing it because he had to. He hadn't chosen to be here, Severus reminded himself, and soon he would be gone. But the question made Severus make a short, bitter sound that was nothing like a laugh. "Besides the fact that I murdered Albus Dumbledore, you mean?" he asked, shaking his head. "Really, Lupin, you aren't so naive as to believe anyone is going to think I was actually working for the Order all along, do you? Minerva knows the truth, of course, and Potter, but I don't expect either of them to be willing to defend my tarnished reputation, even if they knew I was still alive. Besides, _I_ thought I was going to die, and I used that certainty to exact petty vengeance on a few people." He shrugged. "Not that I care. There's nothing for me here, and there hasn't been for a very long time."

Remus chuckled as he shuffled slowly at Severus' side, amused but not at all surprised by Severus' attempt to snark beyond the grave. It was such a typically _Severus_ thing to do. "Well, I believe you," he pointed out. "But I do understand what you mean. Other than Teddy, I don't have any attachments here either. No job, family and friends all dead, no home. The personal effects at Tonks' flat are all I have left, and that's merely stuff. I want my son, but I can walk away from everything else with ease."

That brought Severus up short, and he stopped, turning so that he could look at Lupin fully, not believing what he was hearing. "You have Potter and his lot, and Minerva and the Order. You get to go back as a hero. You want to walk away from that?" He shook his head, his tone becoming laced with irony. "Have you finally stopped looking for everyone's approval, or are you afraid you'll be forced to play the grieving widower?"

Remus met Severus' gaze evenly, not minding the somewhat confrontational questions. "Harry and his friends are my former students, not my friends, and they have their own lives to lead. Minerva and the other survivors of the Order are colleagues, not friends. I'm not attached to any of them enough that I can't walk away. I'd think about them occasionally, of course, as they would probably think about me, but there isn't anyone whose absence from my life would leave a hole in my heart except my son." He smiled self-deprecatingly and shrugged. "I'm sure that makes me sound like a terrible person, but my life hasn't been conducive to forming close attachments, and most of those people made it quite clear that they had the best interests of someone other than me in mind. I really don't care about being a hero, and I doubt things will change for werewolves quickly, if at all, so I've no incentive to pick up the pieces of my old life."

"Ah." Severus thought about that for a moment, refusing to let himself feel so much as a glimmer of hope. After all, Lupin had said that no one mattered to him except his son, and that included Severus Snape. So Severus simply nodded. "Understandable," he said, then gave a snort. "And I don't think you'll find me pointing fingers at who is a terrible person. I know what people think of me, and I admit that I went out of my way to earn much of that opinion. If I don't give a damn about anyone's feelings or opinions, it's simply because I've learned through long experience that no one has ever given a damn about mine. And when they said they did, it was only a pretense to use me for their own ends."

"I agree," Remus said simply, inclining his head to acknowledge the point. "We've both been used, and our respective situations have made it difficult for us to form attachments." He chuckled again with wry amusement. "I suppose that makes it even more ironic that we're bound to one another now."

He gazed up at Severus, thinking about the hazy memories of their first conversation. From what he could remember, he didn't think Severus knew much about the bond that had been formed - what its boundaries were, whether it could be broken or would fade - and he wondered if perhaps the two of them would remain connected. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he and Severus had never been anything like close chums. On the other, Remus was no stranger to finding himself in permanent, life-changing situations that he hadn't asked for; it seemed to be a perpetual theme of his life, and comparatively speaking, being connected to Severus Snape wasn't the worst thing that could happen, especially given it meant he was alive and would be able to raise his son.

"For the record, if the bond doesn't dissipate on its own, I'm willing to work _with_ you on finding a way to live with it," he added. "We've both been through enough, and I don't want either of us to end up feeling used or ignored because of this."

Of all the things Severus might have expected Lupin to say, he certainly hadn't thought it would be _that_. The tiny flicker of hope flared brighter, even as Severus called himself ten times a fool for allowing himself to feel it. "All right," he replied slowly, wondering at Lupin's apparent shift in attitude. It was possible the magical bond that connected their life forces might be affecting Lupin's feelings as well, and Severus wasn't exactly certain how he felt about that. He realized he was still staring down at Lupin, and he felt the urge to use Legilimency to probe, to find out if there were any indication that it was possible for Lupin to come to care for him. But that would no doubt just drive Lupin away, and so Severus dropped his gaze. "I have no desire to use or ignore you, either. Come, let's get you to the loo. Then I will make you something to eat."

"Sounds good. I feel like I could eat now," Remus replied with a smile, and he gave Severus' arm a friendly little squeeze as he began shuffling toward the loo again.

He didn't blame Severus for the unexpected bond between them; for one thing, Severus hadn't known about the wrench Remus' lycanthropy would throw into the plan, and for another, Remus was grateful for anything that had kept him alive, even if Severus hadn't meant the potion for him specifically. If Severus proved balky about the bond later, Remus would point out that it could have been worse: Minerva could have chosen to give the potion to Harry instead. The mere thought of a lifetime bound to Harry ought to make Severus calm down and cooperate, if nothing else did. Then again, Severus had been almost amiable so far, at least by Snapean standards, and Remus was optimistic about their chances of finding a mutually agreeable solution to their unexpected problem.


	4. Chapter 4

Every minute Severus was away from his sanctuary, he grew more and more uneasy, until he was practically jumping at every shadow in Hogsmeade. It wasn't a sensation he liked in the slightest, but he couldn't seem to shake the feeling that he needed to be back at the cabin, watching over Lupin, rather than skulking about in disguise trying to glean information about what was going on in the world and, in particular, what was going on with Lupin's son.

He couldn't go in his own face, of course, and he'd not had time to brew Polyjuice Potion, since it had only been a week. But he was a spy, and a damned good one, so he altered his appearance in other ways, making himself unrecognizable. It wouldn't do at all for him to wear his own face in town, after all, since he was certain more people would try to kill him than ever had before in his life - and that was saying quite a lot. So the disguise was an absolute necessity, but for some reason, it didn't instill him with the confidence he'd felt when dealing with far more dangerous situations during the war. Therefore he resolved to do what he had to as quickly as possible and return to safety.

Not surprisingly, the intense jubilation surrounding the end of the war had faded somewhat. It had been a week, and there had been time for the cost of the victory to be tallied up, a price that Severus knew was very high indeed. The realization of how many lives had been lost was a sobering one, and thus Severus wasn't surprised to see that there were black banners in many windows, and that no one was out still cheering in the streets. He was just as glad that he didn't have to contend with a crush of people, since it allowed him to slip quickly in and out of the shops he needed. Getting general information about what had been happening was as simple as picking up copies of the Prophet, but information about Lupin's son was a far more difficult topic. 

He ran into a piece of luck, however, when he paused outside of the Three Broomsticks, where an article from the Prophet had been tacked up on a board, showing the face of a beaming Harry Potter with the inevitable sidekick and know-it-all flanking him on either side. "Boy Saviour of the Wizarding World!" the headline read, which made Severus roll his eyes. He was unable to stop himself from scanning the article, however, which was so gushing and fawning that it made Severus ill. You'd have thought from the description that Potter had defeated the Dark Lord and every one of his Death Eaters single handed, without any help from anyone. Without the years of careful preparation done by the Order, and most certainly without the assistance of a certain former Death Eater turned spy, who had given up everything for decades in order to correct a single, youthful mistake.

At the end of the article, however, there was something that was actually useful. "As the world begins to return to normality, Harry Potter is taking up a new responsibility, as the devoted mentor and father figure of two fallen heroes. Young Theodore Lupin, son of Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin and her husband Remus, will have a sterling example to look up to in the person of The Boy Who Lived. While being raised by his grandmother, Andromeda Black-Tonks, young Teddy is visited by Harry Potter often."

Severus glanced around, and, seeing no one, he reached up and took the paper. Lupin would want to see it, he was certain, and no doubt would be relieved to know that his son was being well looked after, even if in Severus' opinion he wouldn't trust Potter to help raise an earthworm much less a child. But it was something, and Severus was pleased that he wouldn't have to return to Lupin without any information on his son at all.

Mission now accomplished, Severus turned and headed toward the edge of town, intending to Apparate once out of sight. As he walked down the man street, however, he found himself pausing in front of Honeydukes. He wasn't certain why at first, since he wasn't particularly fond of most sweets, but on a whim, he slipped inside. The scents of mint and chocolate greeted him, and he drew in a breath, surprisingly pleased by the smell. He spent a moment examining the various displays, which were little altered from the way they'd been when he had been a student. As he looked over a display of rich, dark chocolate pieces, he came to a sudden decision. They said that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, after all, and Lupin's sweet tooth was legendary.

A few minutes later, he was on his way again, and once he was out of sight of the last house he drew his wand and disappeared with a faint pop.

"Lupin, I'm back," he said as he entered the cabin. There was an immediate sense of peace and relief as he closed and warded the door behind him, feeling the security of the place cocooning him like a blanket. "I have news."

Remus closed his book and tossed it aside as he practically jumped up from the sofa and hurried to meet Severus, awash in relief; he'd grown increasingly restless the longer Severus was away, but as soon as Severus walked through the door, Remus felt himself calming down.

"Welcome back!" Remus smiled as he approached, quelling the impulse to reach out and grab Severus' hand; he'd learned long ago to keep his hands to himself since not many people wanted to be touched, even casually, by a werewolf, and Severus was more stand-offish than most people anyway. "Sorry, I would have had tea ready, but I wasn't sure what time you'd get back."

"It's all right, I wasn't certain either," Severus replied. He drew his wand, dispelling his disguise, drawing in a deep breath and relaxing, secretly pleased by Lupin's enthusiastic greeting, even though he knew Lupin was more eager for the news Severus brought than for the presence of Severus himself. "I was as quick as I could be, but it still took some time." He regarded Lupin with a raised brow. "Besides, you should be conserving your strength. I'll make the tea, while you scan the papers."

"All right." Remus paused, debating over whether to mention the unusual restlessness he'd felt. Severus didn't seem affected, but Remus didn't think it was coincidental that he'd begun feeling agitated shortly after Severus left and felt far better now that Severus had returned when the two of them shared a bond. "I... er... I don't suppose you felt... odd at all while you were out?" he asked, trying to broach the subject casually.

"Odd?" Severus was surprised at the question, and he tilted his head to one side as he gazed at Lupin. "I felt bloody uneasy and paranoid, expecting someone to pop out and throw the Killing Curse at me at any moment, although I don't know that you would classify that as odd in the circumstances." He stepped closer to Lupin, frowning with concern. "Are you all right? Did you feel odd while I was gone?"

So it wasn't just him, then! Remus breathed a sigh of relief as he nodded an affirmation. "I'm fine," he assured Severus. "I felt restless, that's all. I could scarcely sit still or concentrate while you were gone. It began a matter of minutes after you left, but as soon as you came back, I felt fine again." He smiled wryly. "I think maybe we've found a side effect of the bond."

Severus felt his brows climbing to his hairline. "Which begs the question about which of us began to feel uneasy first, and if it became a sort of feedback loop," he said, mulling it over. He shouldn't be surprised that the bond had _some_ side effects, tying together their life forces as it did, but he certainly hadn't expected it to be quite as intense as it had felt. That brought him up short, with a sudden feeling of alarm that he squelched as quickly as possible. It wouldn't do for Lupin to get an inkling of some of the other things Severus felt.

He reached into his robes and withdrew the issues of The Prophet, holding them out toward Lupin. "These should tell us what we need to know in a general sense," he said. Then he pulled out the single cut out article. "This, however, mentions your son, so I suspect you'll want to read it first."

Remus couldn't help lighting up at the mention of Teddy, and he reached for the article eagerly. "Thank you," he said, already scanning the article, which was all about Harry. He didn't spot the mention of Teddy until the end, and he snorted when he noticed he'd been relegated to the role of mere husband to an Auror, although he had no doubt Tonks got top billing because she was human, unlike him. "Andromeda has him. Good." He nodded, satisfied and relieved that Teddy hadn't ended up in an orphanage. "I would hope getting him back is a simple matter, but..." He rubbed his chin absently as he gazed down at the newspaper clipping, lost in thought. "All things considered, I wonder how the authorities would feel about handing over a child to a werewolf, even if said werewolf is the only surviving parent. They might consider Andromeda a better choice."

There was also the matter of Remus starting to be reluctant to let the rest of the world know he was still alive. Anonymity had its own allure, and he wasn't sure he was ready to resurface yet, if at all.

Severus scowled, uncharacteristically annoyed on Lupin's behalf. "What in the hell is this about them handing him over? You're his father. You don't _need_ permission; you simply walk in and take him." Then he smiled evilly. "If you're worried about the werewolf thing, get a couple of Muggle constables to accompany you, since they wouldn't dare mention that in front of them. Or take me. I suspect the sight of me would probably cause a great many people to expire on the spot, and you could walk out with him unchallenged."

That coaxed a startled laugh out of Remus, the mental image amusing and tempting him more than it probably should. "No doubt, but I wouldn't want you to out yourself as a survivor on my behalf." He paused, and then he shrugged and spread his hands. "For that matter, I'm not sure _I_ am. If it wasn't for Teddy, I probably wouldn't consider going back at all, but I can't leave him behind. I'm just not sure I want to let anyone know I'm alive to do it. They might start thinking they can tell me how I ought to live my life again, and I'm tired of that," he said, thinking about Molly, Minerva, Harry, and everyone else who had prodded and pushed him in the directions they wanted him to go. He'd let them do it, because he didn't see any better options, and it had been easier to give in and go along, but the days of his easy capitulation were over.

Tilting his head to one side, Severus contemplated that. It was still a surprise to him in some ways that Lupin, who'd always seemed to life for the miserable crumbs of approval he was thrown, had somehow suddenly decided to throw it all away. It was, of course, the very thing Severus was doing, but the fact that he fully approved of the course of action didn't lessen his confusion at Lupin's change in attitude. Of course dying did seem to change one, and in this case, Severus thought it a definitely improvement.

"Well, then, we'll simply have to come up with a plan," Severus said, giving a slight shrug. "It shouldn't be too difficult. I am a Slytherin, after all; finding sneaky ways to get what I want without anyone being the wiser is a specialty." 

Remus glanced up at Severus, wide-eyed, and stared at him in amazement, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing. "You'd help me get Teddy back? Really?"

He supposed he shouldn't have been hurt by Lupin's incredulity, since he probably deserved it, but hurt it did. Until he'd made the potion, he knew he'd done damned little to endear himself to Lupin despite being in love with him for years. There had been too many other emotions complicating things, too many strong, negative feelings like jealousy and envy and guilt. It wasn't a surprise then that Lupin would think he'd be as coldly dismissive of Lupin's feelings toward his son as Severus tended to be about everything else.

But that wasn't the case any longer. The reasons Severus couldn't do as he'd wished in the past were gone, leaving him free to proceed without the baggage he'd carried for years. He _had_ to drop that baggage or he'd never be able to convince Lupin of his feelings or ever hope to earn Lupin's affection in return.

"Yes, I would," he said, keeping his words simple and using his Occlumency to try to hide his real feelings. He didn't know if the ability which had shielded his thoughts from Voldemort would be sufficient to fool the bond as well, but it was the only thing he had. If Lupin knew his real feelings, Severus was half afraid he'd go running for the hills.

Remus boggled a moment longer, but then amazement faded into a grateful smile. He had no idea why Severus was willing to help him; perhaps nearly dying had given Severus a new lease on life or perhaps the bond was working on him. Whatever the case, Remus didn't care; he was grateful to have the assistance of one of the most clever and powerful people he'd ever known, and he wasn't about to refuse it.

"Thank you," he said, the words softly spoken but heart-felt. "I appreciate this more than I can possibly express. As little as I care about returning to my old life, I don't want my son growing up a war orphan. I was a wretched husband, but I want to be a good father, if I can be."

Severus could understand that; he wasn't the only one who wanted a new beginning. Lupin's thanks warmed him, but embarrassed him at the same time; he wasn't used to being thanked. "Don't thank me until we manage to get him," he replied. Then he drew himself up brusquely. "Until then, you need to continue to heal, or we won't have any chance at all. So if you don't mind getting started on those papers, I'll see to the tea. Then maybe we can start trying to come up with a plan."

"Yes, sir!" Remus' spirits were high, prompting him to snap off a cheeky salute before returning to the sofa with the newspapers tucked under his arm. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so hopeful about anything, much less his own future, and while he was amazed that hope had come at the hands of Severus Snape, of all people, he wasn't going to question it. "I'll be an exemplary patient, I promise," he added as he settled comfortably on one end of the sofa, tucking his feet up beneath him and summoning his reading glasses before tackling the stack of papers.

Severus stood for a few moments, watching Lupin, surreptitiously admiring the sight of him curled up on the sofa, the reading glasses adding a homey touch to a scene that was more domestic than Severus could have imagined. It was a sight he could easily become accustomed to, and he wished that he could count on that sight greeting him often in the years to come.

He moved into the kitchen, filling the teapot and tapping it with his wand to heat the water while he set about retrieving biscuits and making a few sandwiches. He couldn't help thinking of Lupin's son; if he did manage by some miracle to gain Lupin's interest, that meant the child would come with him. Severus wasn't certain how he would get on with a child; certainly his interactions with the students at Hogwarts proved that there was a level of mutual antipathy. But then Severus hadn't wanted to even try to be close to any of them; teaching had been a means to an end, not a vocation he'd actively desired, and one that he actually resented to some extent. Yet when he'd had the role of Headmaster thrust upon him, he'd done his best to protect the students in his charge.

But Lupin's son, Teddy, was only an infant. Severus had no experience with them, and he'd never thought to desire any. Knowing his preference from a young age had meant he'd long accepted that he'd never had children of his own, and he didn't really see any cause to regret that fact. It had simply never occurred to him that if he did manage to somehow end up with Lupin, a child would be part of the bargain.

Perhaps the child's age might make a difference, but Severus wasn't counting on it. He was getting ahead of himself, anyway, and it puzzled him; he wasn't one giving to day dreaming. He picked up the teapot, and as he began to pour the hot beverage into the cups, he managed to spill the steaming liquid over the fingers of his left hand, causing him to gasp and mutter an oath at the pain. "Damn!" he growled, clutching his burned hand to his chest, furious with himself for such an unaccustomed act of clumsiness.

In the sitting room, Remus felt a sudden, searing pain in his left hand, a pain so sharp that he dropped the newspaper he was holding, and he sucked in a hissing breath, holding his hand against his chest until the pain began to fade. When he looked down, he saw nothing to account for the pain. No redness, no swelling, no sign of a bug or doxie bite. Frowning in bewilderment, he stared down at his hand and cast a simple diagnostic charm, but it revealed nothing, leaving him more puzzled than ever.

Severus cleaned up the spilt tea with a wave of his wand, then levitated the tray and headed back toward the parlor. He'd see to Lupin, then get some burn salve from the loo. With a swish and flick, he placed the tray on the table in front of Lupin.

"Go ahead and start," he said. "I need to put some salve on my hand. I'll be back in a moment."

"What happened to your hand?" Remus put aside the newspapers and rose to his feet, approaching slowly as he regarded Severus with growing concern. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Severus flushed, feeling the odd desire to put his hand behind his back, as though he were a naughty boy who'd done something wrong. Which was ridiculous, and he was annoyed with himself for feeling that way. "It's nothing. I spilled the tea when I was pouring it. I should have been more careful."

"Well, that explains it," Remus murmured, reaching out to clasp Severus' hand, noting the reddened skin in the exact location where he'd felt pain in his own hand. He cast a healing charm, satisfied as he watched the redness fading into Severus' normal sallow skin tone, and he idly rubbed his thumb back and forth across the injured spot. "I felt your pain," he said, gazing up at Severus solemnly. "Literally, I mean. I felt pain in my hand right where you burned yourself just now."

It was hard to say whether the lack of pain was what felt so good, or if it was the caress of Lupin's thumb on his skin. It was the first time Lupin had ever touched him in a way that was more than strictly necessary, and it sent a blaze of warmth all through Severus, one that made his toes curl in his shoes. People didn't touch him casually, not ever, and the way Lupin was touching him now made him realize that he wanted it - wanted more.

Then Lupin's words finally registered, and Severus swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," he said, but he didn't pull his hand away. "I didn't know it would hurt you, too."

"I know." Remus realized belatedly that he was caressing the back of Severus' hand, and he wasn't sure what surprised him more: that he didn't have a bloody stump instead of a hand right now or that the little bit of skin-to-skin contact felt disconcertingly good. He'd grown adept at deflecting Tonks' advances until they were more like roommates than husband and wife by the final months of their marriage, which had been fine with him; he had never been sexually attracted to women, and being married had only reinforced the fact that he was not even remotely bisexual. Before Tonks, there had been Sirius, but that had disintegrated after their initial reunion. Between Remus' spying among the werewolves and Sirius' increasing melancholy, their sex life had dwindled to nothing as well, and so it had been a long time indeed since he had touched or been touched by anyone with a genuine spark. "It's all right. No harm done. It just startled me, that's all."

"I will endeavor to be more careful in the future," Severus replied. He didn't know why Lupin was still caressing his hand, unless the pleasure he was feeling was getting to Lupin through the bond. Suddenly an image of the two of them naked, in bed, entwined rose in his mind, taunting him with the thought of how _that_ would feel, if the two of them were connected and could feed off of each other's pleasure. He had to swallow hard, forcing the image away before Lupin managed to sense any trace of the direction of his thoughts. 

"So will I, just in case it goes both ways," Remus said softly. He knew he ought to let go before Severus protested being pawed by a werewolf, and he released Severus' hand with a reluctance he didn't entirely understand. Perhaps it was the bond, he thought as he gazed up at Severus. Perhaps it was forging a connection between them, and he wondered how deep it would go in the end. "I don't want to hurt you."

Severus wished that Lupin meant the statement in more than the obvious way, especially since he was certain that no one in the world had the power to turn him as much as Lupin could. He felt cold without Lupin's touch, and he wanted more than anything to take Lupin's hand again, to hold it and cling to that warmth, to the sense of rightness and connection. "It seems as though we desire the same thing," he said, wishing it were true in every possible way. "That bodes well, I believe."

"So it does." Remus smiled, pleased that Severus hadn't taken offense, but his smile faded when a thought occurred to him. "The transformation," he said, gazing at Severus in alarm. "If you feel _my_ pain..."

Drawing himself up proudly, Severus shook his head. "While I have no doubt it will be unpleasant, I'm not afraid of it," he said firmly. "Don't worry about me. Although that does remind me that I should start on the Wolfsbane potion. You'll need it if we manage to get your son by then."

Remus nodded dubiously, troubled by the thought of Severus experiencing the pain of the transformation, but then he was distracted from that train of thought by the memory of something Severus had said when Remus first awoke. At the time, he'd been too drained to pick up on the implications, but now... now he had to wonder.

"Were you the one brewing the potion for me all this time?" he asked. "I asked Minerva, but she wouldn't tell me anything except that I would receive it each month free of charge."

The question caught Severus off guard, and he drew in a breath, wondering wildly how to avoid answering the question, lest it lead to another, far too revealing one. But there was no way he could think of to dissemble, so he nodded slowly, watching for Lupin's reaction. "Yes," he admitted, then shrugged as though it were of no real consequence. "It seemed the logical, prudent thing to do, of course."

"Of course." Remus inclined his head in acknowledgment of the point, but while it may have been an issue of pragmatism for Severus, it had been a godsend for Remus, and it made Remus feel even more kindly disposed toward Severus to know that he'd been the source of the potion all these years. Even if Remus hadn't read Harry's account of Severus' _real_ role in the war in the newspaper, he would have had any lingering doubts about Severus' allegiance erased by this revelation alone. "But I appreciate it anyway. It makes the ordeal more bearable to have the assurance of not being a danger to anyone else each month."

"You're welcome," Severus replied quietly. He'd been adamant, in fact, about being the one to provide Lupin's potion. He'd not cared a bit for the thought of some dunderheaded, third rate quack like Slughorn handling something that could mean the difference between life and death for Lupin in the right circumstances. It was the second time Lupin had expressed gratitude in the last few minutes, and Severus felt in danger of it overwhelming him. He cleared his throat. "Well... shall we have our tea before it gets cold?" he asked, moving toward the sofa to sit at the other end. As he began to lower himself he was suddenly reminded of the remaining object in his pocket, and he reached in, pulling out the small white box.

"Um, I realize I don't have much in the way of sweets, and I know they can be somewhat, um, efficacious in recovering from Curse damage," he said. Then he held out the box to Lupin, trying to make it seem casual. "Here. I thought I remembered Minerva saying you preferred Honeyduke's Darkest."

Remus found himself stunned once again as he accepted the box, the familiar - and beloved - scent of chocolate wafting up to his nose. Severus was even more knowledgeable about the Dark Arts than he was, which meant Severus knew quite well that chocolate was used as a restorative if one had encountered a Dementor, which Remus hadn't. Under the circumstances, the gift seemed more like a gesture of good will, a suspicion borne out by Severus seeming somewhat flustered, and Remus felt himself growing flustered as well, confused by all the various twists and turns their conversation had taken.

"I do, yes," he replied, unable to resist opening the box then and there and sampling a piece. The rich dark chocolate melted on his tongue, and he gave a little hum of pleasure as he savored the sweet. "Thank you, Severus. I'm sure these will speed along my recovery nicely." Belatedly he remembered his manners and held out the box to Severus. "Would you like a piece?"

Of all the things in the world that Severus had ever seen, certainly the sight of Remus Lupin practically making love to a piece of chocolate was the most arousing. And the _sound_ he made... Severus could easily imagine Lupin making sounds like that as Severus explored his skin, or took Lupin into the heat of his mouth to drive him wild with pleasure. It wasn't doing anything to help Severus _not_ do something foolish like push Lupin back on the sofa to steal a taste of chocolate from his lips.

"No, thank you," he replied, then hurriedly picked up his cup of tea and drained it, needing something to distract him from the dangerous direction of his thoughts. Normally Severus was able to exert almost inhuman levels of self control, but somehow Lupin was making it almost impossible to keep a rein on his libido. But he must; it was something as important in its way as keeping his true motivations from Voldemort had been.

Only frugality and restraint born of long years of practice let Remus resist the temptation to eat another piece; instead, he closed the box and set it aside, and then he picked up his tea cup. "Well, if you change your mind, I'll gladly share," he said, glancing sidelong at Severus. He still couldn't figure out why Severus had brought him the chocolates - or why Severus had saved him and nursed him back to health or brewed the Wolfsbane Potion for him all these years - but apparently, Severus' antipathy for him didn't run as deep as he'd always assumed it did. That boded well for them rubbing along together if the bond didn't fade on its own.

Severus nodded, pouring himself another cup of tea. Then he sat back on the sofa, breathing slowly and deeply until he felt he had himself in hand once again. Perhaps it would be helpful if he brewed an anaphrodisiac potion; at least then he wouldn't have to worry about Lupin getting an inkling of his attraction. Just because he was rather certain Lupin was gay - always had been, despite the whole thing with Tonks - that didn't mean he would welcome Severus being attracted to him. Severus simply could not stand the thought of seeing rejection, or worse, _pity_ in Lupin's eyes.

"If you want to get your son back without alerting the world to your continued existence, I can think of a few options," he said, deciding to keep things on a pragmatic level for his own continued sanity. "Obviously it's going to mean taking him completely away from Andromeda Tonks, and having no further contact with her afterward. Given that you weren't certain of your son's location, I surmise you didn't leave a will outlining custody arrangements. But if Andromeda is half as willful as any of the Blacks, then it probably wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"Considering I've never had any assets, I didn't see the point in drawing up a will," Remus admitted with a sheepish smile. "I never thought to ask Tonks if she had either, but she was young and probably hadn't shaken off that sense of immortality most young people seem to have." He sipped his tea as he mulled over the situation. "I'm not sure what to do," he said at last. "On the one hand, it seems cruel to take Teddy away from Andromeda and never let her see him again when he's the only remaining connection she has to Tonks. On the other, I don't fancy being obligated to return constantly for her sake either. I can't just spirit him away; she'd assume he'd been kidnapped and never stop looking for him, which means I'd spend my life looking over my shoulder instead of being able to make a clean break." He sighed wistfully. "Well, I suppose there's no help for it. I'll have to make my resurrected status known, take custody of Teddy, and arrange a visitation schedule. It's not what I'd prefer to do, but..." He trailed off and shrugged, not wanting to voice his thoughts aloud.

He was no stranger to being the one to bend, to adapt, to sacrifice, and he'd spent a lifetime growing accustomed to dancing to someone else's tune. His life had been out of his own hands ever since he'd been bitten, it seemed, and what he wanted had ceased to matter. As a result, he'd learned to roll with the punches and accept whatever situation he'd found himself in. Fighting against the inevitable was futile, and he preferred to work with what he had rather than waste time and energy railing over what he didn't have. He didn't mention any of that aloud, however, not wanting to make Severus angry or feel like Remus was blaming him for the bond.

"Cruelty is a relative term," Severus replied. He could see that Lupin was torn about the situation, and he wanted to try to help. "You want to leave, and you have the right to do so without being bound by obligations to anyone else. Children move away from their parents all the time, sometimes to the other side of the planet. Theodore may be Andromeda's grandson, but he's _your_ son, and you do not have to mold your life around what Andromeda Tonks wants or needs." He looked at Lupin somberly. "If what you wish to do is take him and never look back, then do it. Leave her a note, if you'd like, but don't be bound by something you don't desire. If you truly no longer care what anyone thinks, if you truly wish to be free, it can be done."

Remus gazed at Severus, wide-eyed, as he considered the idea. He was so accustomed to going along and thinking about what everyone else wanted that the notion of making a decision based entirely what _he_ wanted was entirely foreign to him, and he could barely wrap his mind around it.

"That seems so selfish," he said slowly, running his fingers through his hair absently. "But I do want to be free, and I'm tired of living according to what other people think." He sat up straight, strengthening his resolve. He knew Severus was right - that he wasn't responsible for anyone else's happiness - and he was determined to break some of his old habits. "All right, I'll do it. I'll take custody of Teddy, and if I want to leave, I'll leave. The only thing that matters is Teddy's well-being. As long as I can provide well for him, he'll be fine, and he can go back when he gets old enough if he wants to. It doesn't mean _I_ have to."

"Exactly," Severus agreed, nodding. He was pleased that Lupin seemed willing to stand up for himself; it was about bloody time, after all. "All that you need to decide is if you want to let her know what you're doing, or not. In either case, I'm willing to assist you. Although if you _do_ decide to tell her, I suggest you give her no advance warning, in case she tries to fight it. I believe your son is young enough that it's not going to traumatize him either way, correct?"

"He's only three months old, so no, I don't think he'll be traumatized," Remus replied, shaking his head. "I'm more concerned about Andromeda than Teddy. But I think if I take her unawares, there won't be much she can do, and hopefully, the shock of seeing me alive and well will slow down whatever reactions she might have under normal circumstances."

"Good." Severus considered for a moment. "I suppose the only question now is when you want to do it. You might wish to wait until you are completely recovered, but, then again, there is no certainty of how long that will take." Personally, Severus would prefer it if Lupin didn't wait. Once he recovered fully, the bond might fade and he might decide to simply take his son and leave without even telling Severus where he was going. If he did it sooner, Severus might have a chance to show Lupin that he could be a part of their lives. _If_ he could get on with the child, of course. That was still a rather large risk, but one that Severus didn't mind taking for the sake of having Lupin.

"I'd rather do it sooner than later," Remus replied, cocking his head as he regarded Severus quizzically. "Are you sure _you're_ all right with this? I know you aren't fond of children, and if I have custody of Teddy and the bond doesn't dissipate, that means he'll be a part of your life, too."

"I will admit to some... trepidation," Severus admitted, deciding that to say any less would make Lupin think he'd gone 'round the bend. But he was glad that Lupin wasn't thinking in terms of waiting, since it did give Severus a chance. "But infants are not like idiot children who have been raised by equally idiot parents to feel they are entitled to the world without having to work for it. It's not that I have an antipathy for children in general... I simply have never considered them as something that would ever be a part of my life, aside from teaching. I have gotten on with Draco well enough through the years." He paused, then decided to make an admission. "I saw some things in Draco that reminded me of myself at that age. I couldn't protect him completely, but I did try to keep him from making at least some of the mistakes I made."

Remus listened quietly, some of the apprehension he'd felt fading. Perhaps Severus wasn't the warm, nurturing type, but it didn't sound like he hated all children on principle either. Perhaps they could make this work. Of course, that was assuming the bond didn't fade once he was fully recuperated, Remus reminded himself. At that point, Severus would likely be ready for them to go their separate ways, and Remus supposed he ought to be as well, but somehow, he didn't find the thought as appealing as he once might have.

"As long as you don't start taking House points while he's in infancy, I'm sure it'll be fine," Remus said at last. "It would put him at a terrible disadvantage when he goes to Hogwarts. Well, assuming he goes to Hogwarts, rather than Beauxbaton or Durmstrang," he amended. "Or somewhere else, for that matter. I don't necessarily want to remain in this part of the world."

In truth, he felt as if the entire world had suddenly opened up to him, and the idea of traveling to places he'd only dreamed of seeing before seemed closer to reality than fantasy.

"It's difficult to take House points when the child doesn't yet have a House," Severus replied smartly. Then he lifted a brow, and smirked evilly. "You realize he has a decent chance of ending up in Slytherin, anyway. He does come from a long line of them on one side, and his father is a Dark Creature. I'd certainly not wish to penalize my own House."

Remus was startled, partly because he hadn't thought of Teddy's heritage in that way before and partly because he didn't remember ever hearing Severus joke with him before, but after the surprise wore off, he laughed. "You're right," he said, inclining his head to acknowledge the point. "Precedent does lie in Slytherin's favor, and if you're around, you'll have the chance to groom him as well." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he hoped he hadn't put his foot in it, implying as he had that he and Severus might be together for a long time, since Severus might not want a reminder of being saddled with a werewolf and cub.

For his part, Severus was pleased with the words. It showed that Lupin wasn't planning to push him out, at least not as long as the bond remained in place. "I would consider it my duty to insure the child didn't end up in Gryffindor if at all possible," Severus replied, his expression bland. "Even if the world believes me dead, I do have a set of standards to maintain."

Remus laughed again and shook his head. "No doubt," he said, keeping his own expression bland. "Well, I'm not so loyal to Gryffindor that I care whether Teddy ends up there or not. He's my son, and I'll be proud of him no matter which House he's in. It's a flawed system anyway. Any magical hat that would put _me_ in Gryffindor must be cracked."

"Why?" Severus was genuinely curious. He'd always figured Lupin thought he belonged in Gryffindor with the others. "Obviously I belonged in Slytherin, so I never felt as though it was flawed in the Sorting. Perhaps just in the fact that there was a Sorting in the first place."

"I do think the system is inherently flawed," Remus said, finishing the last of his tea and putting the cup aside. "It breeds competition and encourages segregation and favoritism. Aside from that, I've always wondered about it in my own case. I've never considered myself particularly brave. Strong, yes - I've had to be. But brave? Not really."

Severus considered that. "Perhaps you are braver than you think," he said slowly. "You have weaknesses, yes, and believe me, I've roundly cursed you for them over the years, and often thought you were a coward for not standing up to others. But bravery comes in many forms. You're still alive, are you not? Suicide is the true coward's way out, and Merlin knows a lycanthrope has enough reasons to consider that an option."

"I've considered it at times," Remus admitted frankly, leaning back against the sofa cushions and relaxing despite the seriousness of the conversation. "But as difficult as it can be at times, I like being alive. There's always the possibility that things can change for the better. Like now, for instance. The war is over, I'm alive, I hope to have custody of my son soon, and I plan to walk away from my old life. There are a lot of uncertainties - like how I'll support Teddy, for one thing - but there are places that don't harbor the same prejudices against werewolves. I could get a steady job for the first time in my entire life. Things seem to be turning around, and I'm quite glad I lived to reach this point."

So long as Lupin planned to take Severus along when he walked, all of that suited Severus just fine. "So that is a form of bravery. Although I must admit I'd often thought you'd have done better in Ravenclaw." Besides, if Lupin had been in Ravenclaw, Potter and Black wouldn't have been there. And Slytherins and Ravenclaws got on fairly well. "Well, since you seem to have reached a decision, all you have to do is pick a date. If you'd like, I can scout and see if Andromeda has a schedule, and if Potter tends to show up at any given time. You might wish to avoid _that_ particular complication if you can."

"Definitely," Remus replied with a slight grimace. "Perhaps next week? That would give you some time to do some reconnaissance work and for us to form a plan."

"That is acceptable," Severus said, covering his pleasure at the thought by taking another sip of his tea. Things weren't settled by any means, and they could still fall apart at any moment, but it was seeming as though perhaps his hopes weren't quite so foolish as he'd thought. All he had to do was make himself indispensable to Lupin, and Severus had had long practice at such things. Only the reward in this case might end up being greater than any he'd gained before, and as far as he was concerned, that made the risk worthwhile.

"Good." Remus smiled, pleased by this unexpected turn of events. He was sympathetic toward Andromeda having lost both her husband and daughter, but he knew it was high time that he stopped living his life based on what other people wanted. He had nearly died, but he'd been given a second chance, one he was determined not to waste on worrying about pleasing everyone but himself. He'd had enough of the wizarding world here, and he faced being able to leave once and for all with relief rather than trepidation. "Thank you, Severus. I appreciate your help with all this."

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgment. "It's a new beginning, for both of us. At least it seems to have gotten off to an acceptable start thus far."

"It certainly has for me," Remus agreed, offering him a friendly smile. "Once I've regained more strength and energy, I plan to start pulling my weight around here so you won't end up feeling like you've been saddled with a useless lump. After all you've done for me lately, I don't want you to feel taken for granted. I imagine you've had enough of that."

"I think we both have," Severus replied. He gave Lupin a sidelong glance, his lips twitching slightly. "And don't worry, I fully expect you'll have to pull your weight, especially once Theodore joins us. Unless you know a charm for changing nappies, I will probably leave that duty, so to speak, entirely to you."

"Nappie duty and middle of the night summons will be all mine," Remus promised, drawing an X over his chest. "Actually, I won't be offended if you don't want much responsibility when it comes to Teddy. I realize he's an addition you didn't expect when you took me out of the morgue, so just do what you're comfortable with and what proves least annoying to you."

"We shall see," Severus said, not making a commitment one way or the other. "Let's just get your son first... everything thing after that will follow in its own good time." Hopefully "everything else" included Lupin swearing his undying love for him, along with an invitation for as much shagging as Severus could stand. But he could be patient, at least for a little while. It would hopefully pay off spectacularly in the end.


	5. Chapter 5

It was odd returning to the flat he'd shared with Tonks, knowing that it was the last time, and Remus hesitated before opening the door and crossing the threshold. He remembered when they left - together, albeit after a brief row. Remus had been against both of them running headlong into battle. "What if neither of us come back?" he'd protested. But Tonks had been adamant about going, and Remus had almost let her go on alone. Pride and the scornful look on Andromeda's face when he'd told her he would stay behind had prodded him. Tonks had called her mother to pick up Teddy, and upon arrival, Andromeda had made it clear she thought his place was with Tonks.

In hindsight, he wondered if the old biddy had hoped her daughter would come back a widow. Andromeda had never been fond of him, and the feeling was mutual. She didn't think much of him for not flinging himself into her daughter's arms as soon as Tonks had shown interest in him; the fact that he was a werewolf didn't score him any points either. Andromeda bucked her family enough to marry a Muggle, but there were some prejudices too deeply ingrained to overcome entirely.

Now he was back, and Tonks was dead. Part of him felt guilty for not being the husband she wanted him to be, but he knew it was her own fault if she'd been disappointed in their marriage. He'd tried to put her off, but she hadn't listened, turning to strong-arm tactics to get what she wanted instead. She should have chased a young, handsome, _straight_ man so she could have had the passionate, devoted lover she wanted - and deserved. Remus didn't love her, but he didn't dislike her either; on the contrary, he thought they worked well as friends, and he hadn't wished her ill. He hadn't even wished her to die, but joining the battle had been her choice, too, and as an Auror, she'd known the risks.

Even telling himself all that, Remus couldn't shake the eerie feeling clinging to him as he walked into the flat. It had been Tonks' flat before they got married, and he'd packed up his meager belongings and moved in with her. After months of cohabitation, it still hadn't felt like home; the decor was hers, all the furniture and accessories bought and paid for by her salary, all the bills paid by her. He'd brought nothing but a few extra books for the shelves and a single old photo album. Looking around, he realized that no one would really be able to tell he'd lived there at all if they didn't notice the wedding photo on the mantle. He glanced at it, but he veered toward the bookshelves instead; it wasn't a good photograph, in his opinion, and he didn't want to keep it. Tonks was beaming and radiant in her wedding gown - an heirloom from Andromeda - but Remus' image was somber, even pensive, when it appeared. Mostly, it hid out of sight behind the frame.

"Have a seat, if you like," he said, glancing over his shoulder at Severus, who had insisted on accompanying him. "I don't have much, so it won't take very long."

Severus glanced around, not surprised to see nothing that would indicate to him that Lupin had ever lived in the flat. Even in marriage Lupin hadn't asserted himself, but Severus was glad that was about to change. "Take as long as you need," he said, prowling around and peering at the bric-a-brac, all of which he could easily see Tonks buying. Somehow he didn't think that the neon-colored miniature unicorns were quite Lupin's thing. "If you want to bring things out to me, I can shrink them and stow them away so we aren't encumbered."

"That's probably a good idea for the books in particular, since those get heavy." Remus pored over the shelves and pulled out all the books that he'd scrimped and saved his knuts to buy over the years. They were hard-won, and he wasn't going to give them up if he didn't have to. It took a few minutes to make sure he hadn't overlooked anything on the shelves, and then he turned to Severus and gestured to the pile of books. "That's it for the books. I have some clothes in the bedroom, and I'll see if there's anything left in the nursery, too."

"All right," Severus replied, pulling his wand. He shrank the books, then picked them up and slipped them into a pocket of his robes. He noted that Lupin didn't seem inclined to take his wedding picture, not that Severus blamed him, but Severus thought about what he knew of normal families. "Not to sound as though I'm interfering, but... you might wish to take something of Nymphadora's and perhaps a picture or two. Not for you, but for your son. He'll have questions as he's growing up, if he's like every other child I've known. It might be easier to answer if you have something to show him or give him that was hers."

The thought hadn't occurred to Remus, but it was a sensible idea, and he nodded. "You're right," he said. "I'll do that."

He took a moment to rearrange the bookshelves in hopes of making it appear to a casual observer - like Andromeda - that nothing had been removed, and then he went to the mantle. He studied the array of photographs - none of which he was in except for the wedding day photo - and selected one of Tonks taken when she was eight months pregnant and one of her and Teddy taken when he was barely two weeks old.

"That should do for photos," he said, handing them to Severus. "She kept a baby journal, too. I'll get that if Andromeda hasn't already taken it. Do you think that will suffice?"

Severus took the photos, then shrugged. "I have no idea," he replied honestly. "My own family was hardly normal, and I keep no reminders of my parents. But Teddy has no reason to dislike his mother, does he? What would you want of your mother's, Lupin?"

Remus thought about his mother and thought about what he would have wanted if she had died before he'd had a chance to know her. "Personal things," he mused. "Things that told me what she was like." He tried to remember what Tonks might have had other than the baby journal that fit that description, but he came up blank. "I'll have a look 'round in the bedroom to see if she had any letters or a diary," he said. "Do you mind checking the writing desk?" he added, pointing to the item in question. "If you see anything that looks suitable, take it."

The request surprised Severus, but he shrugged slightly. "All right," he said, moving to the desk. He examined the blotter and quill on the top, then opened the drawer, hoping that he wasn't going to find something revolting like love letters Tonks had written to Lupin. He poked around at the contents, but there were only blank sheets of paper and pots of ink, and he closed it with a sense of relief.

"Nothing here," he called out to Lupin, then moved to sit down on the sofa to wait. He'd come along mostly because he didn't think Lupin was well enough to Apparate yet, and for him to splinch would have definitely put a cramp in their plans.

Remus had already moved on to the bedroom and was in the process of removing some of his clothes from the wardrobe. There wasn't much, since he'd disliked having to take money to go shopping; he wouldn't have minded if Tonks had earned higher wages and was the primary breadwinner if he'd had a job himself as well, but he disliked not being able to contribute to household funds _at all_. He'd sometimes felt as if he was useless, and he'd tried to make up for his lack of a job by cleaning the flat, cooking the meals, and taking care of Teddy. Tonks had made it clear that she appreciated his efforts, but after a lifetime of poverty and being unable to afford necessities at times, much less luxuries, and of being reliant on the kindness of friends, he'd begun to chafe at the restrictions he was forced to live with.

"All right," he called back as he pulled out the garments that were less worn and shabby looking, leaving the worst of the lot behind. "Thanks for looking," he added before tossing everything on the bed. A flick of his wand had everything folded and stacked neatly, and then he began searching through drawers and on the top shelves of the wardrobe for any personal effects Tonks might have left behind. He discovered unexpected treasure in the bottom drawer of her night table: an unlocked box filled with cards, letters, mementos, and even a small journal. This, he thought, was exactly the kind of thing Teddy might like to have, and so he closed it securely and put it on the stack of clothes, and then he levitated the lot out to the sitting room where Severus waited.

"I found something," he said. "She had a memory box, so I took it for Teddy. Let me check the nursery, and then we'll be done here, all right?"

"Good." Severus shrank the pile Lupin brought, and pocketed that as well. "Take as long as you need, since we probably shouldn't come back."

"I've no intention of coming back," Remus said firmly. "If I overlook something today, I'll do without." He glanced around, taking in the familiar surroundings without a pang of nostalgia. "I'm more attached to Hogwarts than this place. I never really felt like I belonged here. Part of it was my own fault, I'm sure, but this was more her place than ours."

Severus looked at Lupin, surprised that he seemed so very unaffected by the place he'd lived with his wife, where his son had presumably been conceived and had lived for most of his admittedly short life so far. Gryffindors, in his experience, were almost unbearably soppy and sentimental about things, so Lupin's indifference seemed odd. Which probably spoke volumes about his marriage. "You really didn't want it, did you." It was more statement than question. "I admit I was rather surprised to find out you'd married her." That, of course, was a vast understatement, not that Severus was going to enlighten Lupin in that regard.

Remus offered a mirthless half-smile. "Did you ever hear the story of how we ended up engaged?" He released a long, slow breath and rubbed his forehead, wishing he'd had the fortitude then that he had now; things would have turned out much differently. "She'd been after me for a year. I tried to turn her down gently, but instead of accepting the fact that I wasn't interested and going off to find a man who _was_ , she wilted completely - lost her ability to shapeshift, even! It all came to a head right after..." He hesitated, not wanting to dredge up anything unpleasant for Severus. "After Dumbledore died," he continued carefully. "Several of us from the Order were visiting Bill, and we happened to be there when Fleur announced that she didn't care if Bill's face was scarred. Tonks used that moment to make her feelings for me public, and the next thing I knew, I had Minerva, Molly, and half the Order telling me how I ought to stop putting her off and stop refusing happiness and love when it was offered to me. Only they never stopped to ask if being with her was what _I_ wanted. They must have assumed I was being noble or self-sacrificing or something like that instead of reaching the logical conclusion that no, I really wasn't interested in her romantically to begin with." He turned his gaze downward, thinking back to that day. "I was shell-shocked over what had happened at Hogwarts, and it was easier to go along with what everyone told me I ought to do instead of keep fighting. I grew resigned, I suppose. No one was willing to listen to me, least of all Tonks, and so I bowed to the inevitable and married her."

With a grimace, Severus shook his head. He felt a twinge of something he didn't like to think of as guilt for the fact that Dumbledore's death had apparently weakened Lupin's resolve enough that he'd caved in to the pressure. It was almost too ironic that Severus himself had been part of the catalyst for something that had caused him no small bit of jealousy, even if he'd been fairly sure that Lupin had never been in love with her. He'd of course been witness to Tonks' panting pursuit of Lupin, including the change in her Patronus, and he'd mocked her for it, secure because he'd always been virtually certain Lupin was gay. But apparently he'd been wrong in that, although from everything Lupin and said and the things he hadn't said, the marriage had been a virtual disaster from the start. Unsurprising, since Lupin had been forced into it because everyone else thought it would be good for him.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice a bit huskier than he would have liked. He understood, then, Lupin's desire to be free of the bond with him. "Believe me, I know exactly what it's like to be forced into something you don't want. And to have to pay for years for one moment of weakness, one lapse in judgment that ends up costing almost everything."

"Yes, I know you do." Remus stepped closer to Severus, moved by a surge of sympathy and compassion, and he rested his hand lightly on Severus' shoulder, hoping the gesture would be accepted. "You've had it worse than I have in some ways, I think. At the very least, I wouldn't want to try to decide whether turning into a bloodthirsty beast once a month is worse than being forced to walk the sort of tightrope you've had to every single day for all these years."

Severus was surprised when Lupin touched him, but the warmth of Lupin's hand felt good. Very good. "Neither of us have had an easy time of it," he said, drawing in a deep breath and leaning fractionally closer to Lupin. "We've both suffered. But hopefully things are about to get better. Even if you won't be free of your wolf, there should be other compensations to help make up for it. Like having your son, and being free of the prejudices you've had to deal with here."

"Believe me, I have every intention of making certain my life takes a new and better direction from here on out," Remus replied with a resolute nod. "I want things to be different, and the responsibility for that rests with me, mainly in not falling back into old patterns of behavior. Where did being agreeable get me? I was no less poor or less of an outcast for holding my tongue and trying to please everyone. I might as well have taken my chances and stood up for myself once in a while." He smiled wryly and shrugged. "Anyway, yes, having my son and moving to a more tolerant area of the world will be two nice forms of compensation for having to succumb to the wolf each month." He lowered his hand as he regarded Severus questioningly. "What about you? What do you want to make things better for your future?"

The loss of the warmth of Lupin's hand made Severus want to sigh, but he covered it by nodding. He agreed with all of the things Lupin said, since he'd thought much the same thing for many years. "I wish to move to a place where I have no past. Remaining here simply isn't an option, as I have no desire to live my life in an eternal disguise," he replied. "It wouldn't even matter if everyone knew exactly what I'd done, and why, there would still be those who would despise me for what Albus made me do. So I have to be somewhere that I'm not known, where I can make a fresh start and truly be judged for who I am for the first time in my life." He looked at Lupin somberly. "I know that I'm an opinionated man, a man who isn't mild and polite. I have a sharp tongue and I do not suffer fools gladly, and I doubt those will change no matter where I go. But I hope that by going somewhere fresh that the shadows of my past will cease to haunt me. If I can leave them behind, I think it will make a difference."

"For what it's worth, I think there's already a difference," Remus said, offering an encouraging smile. "Maybe it's being away from everything and everyone that caused you stress and pain or maybe it's the bond, but you don't seem to be wound up as tightly as you were during the war." His smile widened as he reached out again and squeezed Severus' upper arm. "Whatever the reason, I'm glad. Maybe a huge change like this will let us both be the men we could have been had circumstances not shaped us in such harmful ways."

"Really?" Severus lifted a brow, wondering if Lupin were right. Was he already different? He didn't feel as angry as he remembered feeling before his "death", but that had been a horrible time out of the ordinary as well. And he didn't have the day to day annoyances of dealing with students or the Ministry or Death Eaters... all he had was Lupin, and that was a _good_ thing, and so of course he was less wound up. Of course having Lupin squeezing his arm and making his breath catch didn't hurt, either. "I'm glad to know that I've apparently started as I mean to go on, then."

"Good." Remus slid his hand down the length of Severus' arm and gave his slender fingers a brief squeeze before releasing them. "Not that I mind your snark and strident opinions, and I'd worry if you suddenly turned amiable, but I think it'll be much better for your health and well-being if you can relax and enjoy your life for a change. You're overdue."

Severus' hand tingled from the contact, and he curled his fingers into his palm in an unconscious attempt to retain the fleeting warmth. "Many things are overdue," he replied, his tone husky. "For both of us." He cleared his throat, deciding that they'd probably best go before he did something stupid like pushing Lupin against the wall and snogging him breathless. "Well, are you satisfied with what we're taking? If so we should probably go before Andromeda drops by."

"The nursery," Remus murmured, feeling an inexplicable urge to touch Severus again. "I need to check in there, but then we can go."

"Right," Severus murmured. He'd gotten so distracted by Lupin's touch that he'd forgotten about the nursery. "I suppose we'll need to transfigure furniture for Theodore before we go and get him. I hope you know what all he will need, because I honestly have no idea."

"It depends on how much, if anything, Andromeda took with her," Remus replied. "If there isn't much left here, then I'd rather start over than try to raid her supplies. I think it would be easier and quicker to get Teddy and a few necessities and be on our way, don't you?"

"Definitely," Severus agreed fervently. His lips twisted into a ironic smile. "There is a saying: strike quickly and fade away into the night. I believe in this case it is an excellent operating plan. The less time she has to gather her wits - or gather reinforcements - the easier it will be to escape." What he didn't mention, since he didn't want Lupin to worry, was that he was more than willing to hex the woman if she interfered unduly. Some people might consider it harsh, since of course she would have an emotional attachment to the child, but Severus wasn't about to grow a conscience at this point. Not when it meant that Lupin would be staying with him, and would have, hopefully, no real reason to leave.

"Precisely." Remus nodded, satisfied with their plan, and then he turned and hurried off to make a quick tour of the nursery. He found Tonks' baby journal and a scant few clothes and toys, but the crib and changing table were gone, as were most of Teddy's clothes and toys; he put what he did find in the small toy box, shrunk it down, and pocketed it. No doubt Andromeda had taken everything she needed back to her house.

"All right, that's everything," he said as he returned to the sitting room. "I'm ready now."

"Excellent," Severus replied. He drew his wand, then held out a hand to Lupin. He was more than ready to leave. "Let's go."

Remus didn't hesitate to clasp Severus' hand, holding on firmly. He didn't spare the flat a final look around or feel a pang of loss; this place and the things in it were part of his past, and he was ready to look ahead to a whole new and different future.


	6. Chapter 6

Drawing in a deep breath, Severus stepped out of the loo, the plain brown robes of his disguise charmed to make him appear just short of portly. He'd charmed his hair short and a nondescript shade of greyish brown, and thick lensed spectacles hid his eyes and helped to camouflage the length of his nose. Slumping his shoulders, he shuffled toward Lupin, moving far more slowly than his normal confident, long-legged stride carried him.

"Mr. Jones, your solicitor," he said, making his voice high-pitched and nasally. "I normally handle estates, you realize, but I suppose a child custody issue is just another form of property."

Remus took in the details of Severus' disguise, impressed and amused by the results. "Excellent work," he said, his voice laced with admiration. "I don't know if your own mother would recognize you, so Andromeda certainly won't."

"Let's hope not," Severus replied in his normal voice, preening a bit at Lupin's compliment. "Hopefully she'll be so fixated on you that she'll barely notice me. Which has the advantage of making it so that if something goes awry, she'll never expect me to actually _do_ anything, giving us the element of surprise."

He was pleased that they were finally going to retrieve Lupin's son, the final task which remained before they could cut ties to England and start researching their options for a new location in earnest. Severus knew he was getting a bit ahead of himself, since there was still Lupin's recovery and the matter of the bond to deal with, but he was cautiously optimistic that things would work out as he wished. He looked at Lupin; his subtle spying on Andromeda had revealed that she tended to keep Saturday evenings for time just with her grandson without any visitors, so they'd decided that would be the best time to retrieve Theodore. "Are you ready, then?"

Remus drew in a deep, bracing breath and nodded. "Yes, I'm ready," he said, and as apprehensive as he was about contacting Andromeda and revealing that he was alive, he _was_ ready to have his son back. He smiled and stretched out his hand. "Shall we go, Mr. Jones?"

"Certainly, Mr. Lupin," Severus replied in his assumed tone. He pulled his wand, then closed the fingers of his free hand around Lupin's as he Apparated them to an area just a short way from Andromeda Tonks' house. He released Lupin's hand reluctantly. "Let's do this. We can have your son and be back to the cabin before he even wakes."

"Yes." Remus nodded resolutely, overcoming his apprehension with sheer determination. He'd never been good at confrontations, and he suspected this was going to be the worst one of his life, but once it was over, he would have his son, and he would be free to move on with his life. That made whatever lay ahead with his former mother-in-law worth the effort. "Yes, we can."

Bracing himself, he walked the short distance to Andromeda's house, and he resolutely ignored the butterflies in his stomach as he knocked on the front door firmly.

It took a few moments, but finally there was the sound of locks being released, and then the door began to open. "May I help..." Andromeda began, then stopped as she saw who was standing on her doorstep. Her eyes widened, and she clutched the blanketed bundle she held against her shoulder, obviously in shock. "Remus! But... you _died_!"

"Hello, Andromeda," Remus greeted her, sounding far calmer than he felt, although the sight of Teddy spurred his courage and made his heart lurch with anticipation of holding his son again. "To borrow a phrase, the reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to come back, but I had a rather lengthy recuperation period, even for a werewolf, but I'm fine now."

Severus stood behind Lupin's shoulder, close enough to be reassuring. He didn't say anything, but he kept a watchful eye on Andromeda, ready to help if he had to.

Andromeda's gaze moved to Severus, then back to Remus as she appeared to gather her wits. "Where have you been, then?" she asked, her tone taking on a chill and her eyes filling with suspicion. "We thought that perhaps one of the surviving Death Eaters had stolen your body, since werewolves can be used for Dark spells. Why didn't you contact anyone?"

"I wasn't in any condition to contact anyone for a while," Remus said, meeting her gaze evenly and refusing to be cowed. "After I began regaining my strength, I didn't think it was a good idea to contact anyone before I was ready to visit them in person. Too much activity might have given me a set-back, and I wanted to return to my friends and family in good health rather than give them cause for concern."

"This is quite irregular, you realize," she said, starting to back slowly away from the door. "You could have written or something! We buried Nymphadora, and you weren't even there! If it really _is_ you."

"I assure you, this is indeed Mr. Remus John Lupin, widower of Nymphadora Tonks Lupin and father to Theodore Remus Lupin," Severus spoke up. "I'm Artemis Jones, Mr. Lupin's solicitor." He reached into a pocket of his robes and pulled out a thick sheaf of documents that he'd put together, all looking terribly official and covered with stamps and charms, none of which meant a damned thing. He could see that Andromeda appeared ready to bolt, and it was probably best to keep her off guard. "Pursuant to the Ministry Codes on Child Welfare, custody of the child Theodore Remus Lupin resides solely in Mr. Lupin so long as he is proven of sound mind and adequate health. We have releases from several doctors proving that Mr. Lupin has been restored to full health and is therefore qualified to take custody of his son."

"Which is why I'm here," Remus said as gently as possible. "I appreciate you taking care of Teddy while I was indisposed, but I'm well now, and I'm ready to take my son home."

"NO! You can't take him!" Andromeda clutched Teddy to her shoulder so hard that the baby squirmed and fussed. "You can't just walk in like this out of the blue and take him away from me! Nymphadora wouldn't have allowed it! You... you were a _terrible_ husband to her, and there is no reason to believe you'll be any better of a father! You didn't even want him, and you tried to walk out when she was pregnant! I won't let you take him from me!"

Severus said nothing, but he moved to one side of Lupin and curled his hand around his wand inside his robes, ready to stop her in her tracks if it became necessary.

The words were hurtful, but they weren't surprising, and Remus didn't let her railing crack his calm demeanor. "You're right," he agreed in a deceptively amiable tone. "I wasn't the best husband, and I was apprehensive about being a father - for good reason, I might add - but once he was born, my fears were assuaged. Tonks knew I was a good father, but not to put too fine a point on it, what she would or wouldn't have wanted is a moot point for either of us to evoke. She's dead, so we'll never know." That was harsh, especially for him, but he felt only the faintest pang about saying it. "The fact is that I'm his biological father, and I have every right to take him. You may either give him to me now, or I'll unleash Mr. Jones here on the legal system and the newspaper. Everyone will know that you attempted to keep a war hero from his own son."

Andromeda flushed a singularly alarming shade of crimson, then went pale. "You can't!" she said, an edge of desperation in her tone. "Please... he's all I have left. I lost Ted and Nymphadora, and I can't lose Teddy, too!"

"I'm sorry for your losses," Remus said quietly. "But you've already raised your child. It's my turn now. You'll always be Teddy's grandmother, but I'm his father, and I have no intention of leaving him with you."

Apparently Andromeda didn't care what Remus' intentions were. Her eyes suddenly grew cold and hard, and she stepped back and moved to slam the door. But Severus had been waiting for her to do something like it, because it was what he would probably have done in the same situation. Of course _he_ never would have been caught in such a way to begin with, but Andromeda was only an amateur Slytherin at best.

As she reached for the door, Severus didn't hesitate. "Stupefy!" he bit out, aiming low so that the spell didn't take in the baby. "Lupin, catch him!"

Remus reacted before he could think, lunging forward with preternatural speed and agility, and he caught Teddy as he fell from Andromeda's slack arms. His heart pounding wildly, he cradled Teddy against his chest, grateful for the warm, solid weight of his son in his arms. He breathed in Teddy's familiar scent, scarcely able to believe it was real. Teddy was here, was his again, and everything would be fine. Then he glanced down at Andromeda and back up at Severus.

"Oh, dear." He tutted softly. "I'm not sure you should have done that." He looked down at her again, thinking of the cutting things she'd said to him. "Ah, well. What's done is done. It'll give me some time to get Teddy's things, at least."

Severus straightened to his full height and regarded Lupin with a deadpan expression. "I panicked."

Remus raised one eyebrow, keeping his own expression dispassionate. "Oh, yes," he said blandly. "I saw you unraveling before my very eyes."

"It's been a stressful day," Severus agreed mildly. He prodded Andromeda with his shoe, but she was out cold.

"Very stressful." Remus drew his wand with his free hand and levitated her back into the house, setting her down just inside. "Your panic was quite understandable under the circumstances."

Severus followed along in Lupin's wake, closing the door behind them. "Well, it isn't as though it's fatal, so no harm done." He drew his wand as well. "Show me what you want, and I'll get it while you keep hold of your son."

Remus had visited enough to know the layout of Andromeda's house, and so he led the way upstairs to the nursery, glancing around once they were inside. As he'd suspected, Andromeda had brought most of Teddy's things from the flat, and he surveyed the room speculatively. "How much do you think we can take? I want all his clothes, the nappies and diaper cream, and toys, of course, and maybe the bed clothes from the crib. Do you think we could get the whole changing table, at least? I'd prefer to transfigure a crib or a cradle for now."

"No problem," Severus replied. He waved his wand with brisk efficiency, shrinking everything Lupin indicated, then levitating it into a neat pile. "Anything else?"

Remus looked around the room once more, and then he shook his head. "That's enough to be going on with. I can transfigure whatever else he needs and make do until I get a job." He held Teddy tighter, determination rising within him. "I want this to be a clean break and a fresh start. That means carrying as little of the baggage of the past as possible, literally and figuratively."

"For a tiny human, he appears to have more baggage than the two of us combined," Severus replied tartly, but there was a glint of humor in his eyes. He gathered up the pile and tucked it away in his robes. "If there isn't anything you want to leave for Andromeda, then I suggest we go now. No doubt she'll have Potter looking for you about ten seconds after she wakes up."

"I've said everything I have to say to Andromeda," Remus replied grimly, and he moved closer to Severus, taking his arm. "I'm ready if you are."

Severus glanced at the child on Lupin's shoulder, satisfied that they'd actually managed to succeed. "More than," he said, then Apparated them back to the cabin. As they landed, he steadied Lupin, not wanting him to accidentally drop the child. "He's all right, isn't he?"

Pushing aside the soft blue blanket, Remus gazed down at his son, who yawned and peered owlishly up at him. "Yes, he's fine," he murmured, stroking Teddy's cheek gently with his forefinger. "Hello, my boy. I've come back for you. Did you miss me? Not too much, I hope. I got you as soon as I could, and we're going to be together now."

Now that the ordeal was over and Teddy was safe in his arms, Remus felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders, and he could relax completely now. Smiling with pure relief, he looked up at Severus. "I don't think you've been properly introduced," he said, holding Teddy so Severus could see him. "Severus, this is Teddy. Teddy, this is Severus. He's the man who saved your father's life."

Severus flushed slightly, surprised that Lupin would say such a thing, even if it was just to an infant. Then he used his wand to restore himself to his rightful appearance. "Let's not confuse the child with false advertising," he replied. Then he couldn't help himself from making the same inane observation he was sure that every person who wasn't used to infants made when faced with one. "He's very small, isn't he?"

"He is right now," Remus agreed, laughing quietly. "But it won't last. Would you like to hold him?" he asked, wanting to show Severus that he had no qualms about giving Teddy over to Severus' care. "He's small, but he won't break."

Severus felt a flash of alarm at the thought of actually holding the baby, but he wasn't about to look like a coward in Lupin's eyes. He'd held far more dangerous things than an infant, after all. "All right," he agreed, his tone slightly doubtful, but he held out his hands. "Just be ready in case he doesn't like me. Not many people do."

"I like you," Remus said, smiling warmly as he handed Teddy over carefully and settling him in Severus' arms. "I'm sure it'll be a case of like father, like son."

The baby was warm and surprisingly solid, and Severus held him as though he were a particularly expensive and volatile potions ingredient. He looked down into the little face somberly, wondering at the connection Lupin must feel to this small creature. It was a connection that Severus knew he would never have, and to his surprise, he found that he envied Lupin for it. As much as Lupin hadn't wanted his marriage, it was obvious that he wanted his son, and Severus thought he understand a tiny part of why.

"We should get his things set up, don't you think?" Severus asked, not looking away from the baby. He was surprised the child hadn't started to scream.

On the contrary, Teddy was staring up at him as if fascinated, and he cooed softly before stuffing his fist into his mouth and blowing spit bubbles around it; a moment later, his eyelids began to droop, and he appeared to be on the verge of dozing off right there in Severus' arms.

"No rush." Remus watched the scene with fond affection, feeling an odd new warmth for Severus. It wasn't just gratitude for all Severus had done anymore; he had grown genuinely fond of Severus, and while part of that might be attributed to the bond, he didn't much care when he was watching Severus hold Teddy without any sign of distaste.

Severus felt a strange surge of affection for the child, and he had to resist the impulse to carry the baby over to the sofa and sink down so that he could spend the next few hours just watching Teddy sleep. Drawing in a breath, he glanced at Lupin. "Here, you should take him back. You've not seen him in weeks, after all. I can set up everything while you get reacquainted."

As much as he was enjoying the scene before him, Remus was eager to have some time with Teddy himself, and so he took Teddy back and cradled him close. "Thank you, Severus. I appreciate it," he said, not referring only to Severus' offer to unpack Teddy's things.

"It was nothing," Severus replied. It was the least he could do, to give Lupin a chance to reconnect with his son. "Have a seat, I'll take care of everything."

Remus wasted no time in settling comfortably on the sofa, Teddy cradled against his chest; he felt as if he could spend an entire day doing nothing but watch Teddy, and it still wouldn't be enough to make up for lost time, but their separation was over at last. He did feel a slight twinge of guilt over Andromeda, but it wasn't enough for him to go running back. Now that he had Teddy, it was time to start thinking about the future. He glanced up, wondering if that future would include Severus, and surprisingly enough, the thought that it might didn't disconcert him.

"Set it up however you like," he said. "I'm not picky about furniture arrangement." He smiled, offering a silent invitation. "We'll be right here when you're finished."

Severus nodded, then set about removing things from he pockets of his robes. He'd let Lupin keep the larger bedroom where he'd placed him when he'd first brought Lupin here, since it had the more comfortable bed, while he himself was using the much smaller room where he'd once brewed potions. But that worked out fine, since Lupin would be able to put a cradle or a crib in with him. The changing table Severus enlarged and placed against the wall just outside Lupin's room, so that it would be handy for both day and night, and he put the toys in a basket near it. Soon he was finished, and the cottage, so masculine before, now looked as though a family with a small herd of children lived there. Surprisingly, the sight didn't bother Severus at all.

He returned to Lupin. "I've found some potions and ointments in one of my potions books which will be useful for a child," he said, envying a bit the way that Theodore was cradled in Lupin's arms. "Since we won't be able to do much in the way of shopping until we leave, I thought I'd work on a few. Diaper cream, a gel for numbing his gums, and a potion for colic, which I'm given to understand makes them wail incessantly from stomach pain. He doesn't seem to be a fussy child, but it might be useful to have such things on hand."

Remus never imagined he would live to see the day when Severus Snape offered to brew diaper cream and a colic cure for his son, and he wasn't certain whether to be more surprised or amused by the thought. Amusement won out, thus he chuckled as he looked up at Severus and nodded. "That's an excellent idea," he said. "Although it does make me wonder if you're becoming thoroughly domesticated," he added, teasing Severus a little.

Little did Lupin know that Severus would welcome the thought of a blissful domesticity, so long as Lupin were included into the bargain. But he wasn't about to let Lupin know that, so he raised a haughty brow and peered at Lupin down the prodigious length of his nose. "I see no reason for either your son or myself to suffer from discomfort that can be prevented," he said, then smirked slightly. "And trust me, there are ways in which I fully intend to remain quite uncivilized. Some might even say wild, now that I shall be free to indulge myself." There. Let Lupin make of _that_ what he would.

That remark made Remus' eyebrows climb, and he wondered if Severus could possibly have meant it the way it sounded. He had a difficult time imagining Severus loosening up enough to have wild, indulgent sex with anyone, but that was one of the implications - and the one thought that lodged itself in Remus' imagination with annoying tenacity.

"I'd say you're entitled to as much indulgence as you like," he replied, pausing before deciding to see if he could tease a little more information out of Severus. "Although naturally I'm curious about what you have in mind," he added casually. "A whirlwind spending spree on potions ingredients? Buying a bigger cauldron? Wearing clothes that aren't solid black?"

"Solid black is not only a preference, but a practicality," Severus replied, waving a hand to dismiss the idea that he'd been speaking of his clothing. He was quite pleased that Lupin had risen to the dangled bait so willingly, and perhaps now that they had retrieved Teddy, it was time to start trying to capture Lupin's interest in earnest. "And I've managed the budget for my classes for years, so I've already spent more on potions ingredients at one time than either of us has earned in our collective lives." He let one corner of his mouth curve up in a slightly evil smile. "As to what I have in mind... well, I've not had much time and even less opportunity to explore all the pleasures life has to offer. Pleasures that other people take for granted, and which I've been denied due to circumstance. Of course it means I shall have to find a willing partner, and I'm very choosy in that regard, but I can be patient."

 _That_ took Remus aback, and he stared at Severus for a moment, trying to process what he'd heard. "That sounds perfectly reasonable," he said at last when he got his voice working again. "Although I admit I'm surprised. Sex... Well, _good_ sex is messy, noisy, and often rambunctious. It's also an act of ultimate intimacy with the right person. Somehow, I thought you'd consider it..." He paused, searching for words that wouldn't offend Severus. "Undignified and dangerous."

Severus lifted his chin, stung that Lupin seemed to think he didn't know what sex was like. He knew his personality was off-putting to some, and that he wasn't good-looking, but he was hardly a blushing virgin, and he'd definitely had offers, although he'd accepted very few. "The fact that I do not go around panting after someone like a bitch in heat - unlike a certain Auror I could name - does not mean I am an asexual machine. I have also spent nearly twenty years in the company of adolescents, and any displays around them would be highly inappropriate at the very least." Inside Severus was filled with dismay and anger at himself for having brought the subject up in the first place, since apparently Lupin simply couldn't picture him in a sexual light at all. "I'm going to go to my room and begin the ointments now. I trust if you need anything you'll let me know." 

With that, Severus spun on his heel and stalked away toward his room, unable to bear being in Lupin's presence any longer.

Remus watched Severus' retreat with growing dismay; he'd put his foot in it somehow without meaning to, and he felt guilty for inadvertently insulting Severus. That was the last thing he wanted to do, considering how helpful Severus had been. He wanted to go after Severus and explain and apologize, but he remained where he was; giving Severus time to cool off was probably best, and besides, he didn't want to disturb Teddy, who was still sleeping peacefully.

Things had gone so smoothly that he supposed it was inevitable it wouldn't last, and he released a quiet sigh, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. Perhaps not raising the subject of sex again was the wiser course of action, but Remus didn't want this to cause a rift between them when the bond showed no signs of fading no matter how much better he felt. Minefield it might be, but it was better to try to navigate it than let it fester when they were likely to be stuck with each a while longer, if not permanently.

But later. Right now, he had his son in his arms, and he was more than willing to focus on that and let everything else fade away for a while.


	7. Chapter 7

Hours later, Severus was still in his room. There were several bottles and small pots of cooling potions around him, the product of his need to work off his annoyance with Lupin. But he knew that if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, he was more angry at himself.

He had little experience with relationships. Sex was another matter, and after the incident of the Shrieking Shack when he'd still been blaming Lupin in part for what had happened, he'd embarked on a rather torrid affair with Regulus Black, who'd made it obvious he fancied Severus. Over the years, Severus had wondered from time to time how much of Regulus' attraction had been genuine and how much might have been involved with using Severus as his one form of defiance of his incredibly controlling parents, but it hadn't mattered at the time. Regulus had been passionate and handsome, and Severus had been denying to himself that he'd ever been attracted to Lupin at all and doing everything he could to prove it.

But that hadn't been a relationship in any typical sense of the word. They'd become Death Eaters and the affair had continued until Regulus' death. At that point, they had both been questioning their allegiance to Voldemort, which made everything they said or thought seem dangerous. It wasn't anything like dating and white picket fences, but Regulus had filled a hole in Severus' life before he'd been taken away.

After that, Severus had shunned sex, especially with other Death Eaters, any of whom could have betrayed him. After he'd fully turned traitor and gone to Dumbledore, he'd felt too ashamed to be interested in much of anything for quite some time. Then Lily had been killed and he'd wallowed in guilt, so it had been quite some time before he'd emerged from his self-loathing enough to think of sex at all.

He'd told Lupin the truth about not wanting the students to know anything about his personal life, not that there had been anyone at Hogwarts he'd been interested in anyway. He'd had the occasional one night stand, however, when loneliness and bitterness caught up with him. He tried not to dwell too much on the fact that he tended to seek out men with honey-gold hair and laughing eyes, since he was well aware that there was no substitute for the one person he wanted and knew he could never have.

Then the unthinkable had happened, and he'd actually allowed himself to believe that he finally had a chance. Lupin was here, bound to him, and Severus had done everything he could to help Lupin get his son. Then the very first time he'd unwound enough to actually start making a tiny move toward wooing Lupin, he'd found out that Lupin considered him nothing more than some uptight automaton who had no natural urges whatsoever, one who apparently thought sex was distasteful, like some prudish Victorian maiden. He'd been an idiot for ever holding out hope, and he'd nearly made a complete fool of himself in the process. The only saving grace was that he'd found out Lupin's opinion before making his own desires apparent; he couldn't imagine how it would have felt if he'd actually declared his interest in Lupin, only for Lupin to boggle at him and claim that he couldn't imagine Severus having sex with anyone, much less him.

He was a fool, and he lectured himself for hours about his idiocy and the consequences thereof. There was no help for it; he needed to get away from here, get away from Lupin and _try_ to make the fresh start he'd boasted about. But unlike his wild, foolish hopes, he needed to do it alone.

The nature of the bond was something he still hadn't completely ascertained, since it had seemed to be almost a moot point. But when the last batch of salve was potted, he pulled out the book which contained the Vita Pro Vita potion, and he set about trying to figure out how to break it, or, failing that, how to alleviate any ill effects he might experience once he and Lupin were separated forever.

After he'd given Teddy a bottle and a bath and tucked him into a crib transfigured from a chair, Remus cast a monitoring charm on the makeshift nursery so he'd know instantly if Teddy needed him and then went in search of Severus, who hadn't poked his nose out of his workroom in hours. Remus hoped it had been enough time for Severus to calm down somewhat, but if not, perhaps an apology would help. Wondering whether Severus was going to hex first and ask questions later, Remus stood outside the workroom door and knocked, waiting apprehensively for a response from within.

Severus heard the knock, and his stomach clenched. He wasn't certain that he wanted to face Lupin yet - or ever again, really - but until Lupin was completely recovered, Severus still had a responsibility in regards to him and the child. "What do you need?" he asked, hoping that Lupin was simply telling him that he was going to bed.

"Nothing," Remus replied, raising his voice to be heard through the door. "I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier, that's all. I made erroneous assumptions about you, and I'm sorry for that."

He wasn't surprised Lupin was apologizing. Lupin apologized at the drop of a hat, after all, so it wasn't as though doing so to Severus was anything special. "It doesn't matter," he said, more to himself than to Lupin. "It isn't important."

"It was important enough for you to get angry and storm off," Remus pointed out. "Look, I think we ought to talk about this, but I'd rather not do it through a door. May I come in?"

The last thing Severus really wanted was to talk to Lupin; the man had a way of weakening his resolve, and this was one issue where he couldn't afford to give ground. But he supposed he wasn't going to be allowed to avoid Lupin forever, or at least not yet. "Oh, very well," he said, although he left the book open, hoping that appearing busy would make Lupin hurry on with whatever he felt he had to say and leave Severus alone once more.

Drawing a deep breath to brace himself, Remus opened the door and stepped inside the room; a glance showed him that Severus was still working, but he didn't let that deter him. "I really am sorry for jumping to conclusions about you," he said, hoping not to put Severus on the defensive right away. "I do realize I'm the last person who ought to judge people."

Severus felt his stomach tie in knots, and he felt his resolve weaken. He wanted to believe that Lupin meant it, but he was still feeling too raw. "Apology accepted," he replied dully, not wanting to argue, and he turned away, fiddling with one of the jars of salve. "If that is all, I need to get back to my work."

Remus stood there, watching Severus with growing bewilderment; he'd been given a clear dismissal, but somehow, the conversation didn't seem over. Severus had accepted his apology, but there seemed to be something more going on. Remus simply had no idea what it was, and as a result, he didn't know what to say or do to fix whatever it was he'd done wrong. Instead of retreating, however, he moved closer - close enough to see that the book on Severus' work table was open to a specific recipe, one that didn't appear to be for a teething gel or colic cure. A closer look showed that it appeared to be the very potion that had created the bond and saved both their lives - and then Remus did a double take when one line in particular jumped out at him. A single sentence revealing that the potion had to be brewed for a specific recipient.

"You lied to me," he said, snapping his head up to fix Severus with an incredulous stare. "You said Minerva chose who to give that potion to."

Severus whirled, looking at Lupin in shock. He'd been waiting to hear Lupin's footsteps retreating, but he hadn't realized Lupin was looking at the potion book. Looking at the description of the potion, which betrayed the truth about what Severus had done.

He went cold inside, seeing the disbelief on Lupin's face, certain that he'd see loathing or rejection next. He straightened his spine and let the veil fall over his eyes as he had when facing Voldemort, so that no trace of his inner thoughts or feelings could show. "You should go now, Lupin," he said, his voice completely devoid of emotion.

"What?" Remus boggled at Severus for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers," he said firmly. "None of this makes sense!"

Severus crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive gesture but Lupin wouldn't know that. "Too bad," he replied. "If you won't leave, I will."

"No, you bloody well will not," Remus retorted, a hint of a growl underlying his voice, and he grabbed Severus' arm, holding on tight to keep Severus from either Apparating or bolting for the door. "You brewed that potion with the intent to give it to me. Why?"

"Let me go, Lupin!" Severus hissed, trying to pull his arm out of Lupin's grasp. "Isn't it enough that I gave you another chance at life and helped you get your son back? I've done nothing but try to help you! I don't owe you anything else!"

"You're right. You don't owe me anything." Remus released him and took a step back, gazing at Severus with his mouth thinned into a hard line as he tamped down his rising temper. "If anything, I owe you, but I still don't understand _why_ you've done any of this. You claim you didn't loathe me as much as you did James and Sirius, but damn me if I ever saw any sign of it. I think it's perfectly reasonable for me to wonder and ask about your motivations, especially considering _this_ ," he said, gesturing to the book.

Severus' own temper was close to the boiling point, and it never occurred to him to step back and realize that they were probably feeding off each other's anger. All he knew was that he'd lost everything, and the cruelest part of all was that fate had let him survive to suffer this humiliation.

"My motivation was that I didn't want you to die, you dunderhead!" he shouted, throwing caution to the winds. "Because I'm an idiot, a fool who thought that since I could never have what I wanted in life, at least I could use my death to save the only person who mattered to me! No, you never saw any sign, but then I'm sure you wouldn't have wanted to see one. You had your friends, friends who tried to _kill_ me, and I had nothing. I knew you'd never give a damn about me, and I wasn't going to be _pathetic_ like your wife and chase after you, begging for your attention. There, Lupin, are you happy now? There's your explanation. Now kindly get the hell out of my sight."

Remus felt his jaw drop and his eyes widen as he gaped at Severus, scarcely able to process the fact that there seemed to be a declaration of emotion buried in all that yelling and snark, which was the last thing he thought he'd ever hear from Severus Snape. Closing his mouth with a snap, he raked his fingers through his hair as he tried to sort through this jumbled mess and form some kind of coherent response.

"The reason why Tonks' pursuit of me was unfortunate-" He refused to use the word 'pathetic'. "-was because she wasted her time chasing a man who could never return her feelings, not because of her but because of his own preferences. Had she been a man, she might have stood a better chance," he said quietly, deciding it was time to stop hiding the truth, especially given what Severus had admitted himself. "As for my friends, they grew to distrust me and cut me out of their lives, so apparently, I didn't have much of anything either. I wish I'd had an inkling of how you felt. It might have made a difference." He sighed, thinking back to his younger self. "Then again, maybe it wouldn't have, but the one thing I can say with certainty is that you aren't pathetic, and saying I'd never give a damn about you is inaccurate."

Severus' anger faded, leaving him feeling cold and empty. Even Lupin's confirmation of Severus' long-held suspicions about his preferences didn't make him feel any better. "It doesn't matter," he said hollowly, turning away from Lupin and crossing to his work table, closing the potion book. "I should have died when I was meant to die and been spared this. I don't want your gratitude; I just want to be left alone. You have everything you need now, so feel free to go."

"Spared what?" Remus retorted, giving a little growl of frustration. "Spared hearing me say that yes, I'm gay too, and yes, there's a chance something could develop between us? Because that's what I'm saying, not whatever it is you think you're hearing. Your feelings aren't pathetic because not only am I not rejecting them, I'm saying they could be returned, and that means you were inaccurate in thinking I could never give a damn about you - and it has nothing to do with gratitude, either. I'm not so eager for approval and pathetic myself that I'd trade my body for roof over my head," he added, lifting his chin proudly.

Severus couldn't believe what he was hearing; he'd been certain Lupin had been talking about gratitude, not something deeper. But he was frightened of letting himself hope again, and he clenched his hands on the potion book, feeling as though he were falling without anything to hold onto. "I know you wouldn't," he replied finally, his voice low. "But you obviously have never thought of me as a potential partner. A friend... that I might believe. But what you said made it perfectly clear that you can't imagine me in a physical relationship. Perhaps it would be better just to go our separate ways after all."

Remus sighed, frustration and annoyance deflating into something far less easily defined, and he threw up his hands and shrugged. "Just because I hadn't thought of you that way and had a difficult time imagining you having sex because of a demeanor _you_ projected, that means there's no chance of me ever seeing you as a sexually active man? I'm trying to tell you there's a chance for you to get what you implied you want, but if you're going to keep throwing up obstacles, maybe we should part ways. I don't want to make things uncomfortable for you with my presence, but I don't want to bang my head bloody against a wall either."

Severus made a choked sound, something halfway between a laugh and a sob. "You've known me how long?" he asked, his voice ragged. He didn't want Lupin to go, but he was reluctant - no, make that bloody _terrified_ \- of asking him to stay. All his life, everything Severus had ever really wanted had been denied to him, and even though he realized Lupin probably thought that Severus was pushing him away, he simply couldn't force himself to utter the words. Which meant he was defeating himself, and that was the most bitter irony of all. "If you didn't beat your head bloody, you'd be the first."

Remus blinked and then let out a startled laugh, easing some of his internal tension. "Touche," he replied, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. "All right, I don't want to bang my head bloody for no reason. A little head-banging for the sake of trying to bludgeon a point home is acceptable." He paused, wondering if he ought to voice the next thought that popped in his mind, but he decided perhaps lightening the mood wasn't a bad idea. "Or alternately, a little headboard banging is an acceptable substitute."

Severus' eyes flew wide and he turned to look at Lupin, not quite able to believe Lupin was saying what he was saying. But the pained knot in his chest loosened a bit, Lupin's smile reassuring him. "You would not find me objecting," he replied, hoping that he wasn't making a total fool of himself again. The image Lupin's words conjured up was an appealing one, and he felt the cold receding slowly. "It would certainly be less painful."

"I agree." Remus released a long breath, relieved that the crisis and tension had seemed to defuse, and he glanced sidelong at Severus. "So it's settled, then. We'll both stay, and we'll see what happens, whether the bond stays or fades." He paused, debating whether to take a little risk, but he supposed it couldn't hurt. "For my part, I'm optimistic. If the last couple of weeks have shown us anything, it's that we can rub along well together, and we have more in common than I think either of us realized."

That Lupin was optimistic was reassuring, and Severus drew in a deep breath, making a conscious effort to banish the fear. He'd promised himself a fresh start, hadn't he? And Lupin had learned of his interest and hadn't taken his son and gone running for the hills. It wasn't a declaration, perhaps, but it showed something was there. If Severus could keep from sabotaging himself, perhaps it was enough to build a foundation upon.

"True," he agreed softly. "I want to be free of the burdens of my past, but there are things about me that I doubt I could change at this point. But you haven't run away screaming yet."

"No, I haven't, which I think says quite a lot in itself," Remus replied amiably.

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgment of the point. They had a long way to go as yet, but there were no more secrets between them now. That, he thought, was rather liberating all on its own. "I suppose it is possible to teach an old wolf new tricks," he said. "And perhaps even old Potions Masters, too."

"So it seems." Remus smiled and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Does this mean we're finished with this particular head-banging session? Everyone kept telling me we shouldn't go to bed angry when Tonks and I were married."

"I think we are, yes," Severus agreed. Then he snorted. "Everyone also kept telling you that you should be grateful to be married to her, right? Sometimes what everyone says is a load of bollocks... even if I am rather inclined to agree in this one particular case. If only because it makes it easier to sleep."

"That's the theory, yes," Remus replied. "But then I've never found it helpful to dwell on things to begin with. Anyway, I've interrupted long enough." He paused, wondering what he ought to do. On the one hand, offering a peck on the cheek or lips didn't seem inappropriate given the new direction of their relationship; on the other, he wasn't certain either of them were quite ready for that, and he felt as if he'd gone about as far out on a limb as he was comfortable with for one evening. In the end, he offered another smile instead. "Good night, Severus. I hope you sleep well."

As much as Severus hadn't wanted Lupin to enter, he now found that he didn't want Lupin to leave; but there was no reason he could think of to keep him there beyond the fact that he wanted him to stay. So he nodded. "Good night. I... I will see you in the morning."

"I'll be here," Remus promised, and then he turned and headed out the door, leaving Severus to his work once more.

Severus stared at the door for a long time. He didn't know how things would go, but at least he was feeling better about it than he had been a few hours before. Maybe Lupin _could_ come to desire him. And if that happened, everything they'd gone through to get there would have been worthwhile.


	8. Chapter 8

With a muffled crack of displaced air, Severus materialized in the parlor of the cottage. He frowned as he used his wand to dry his hair and clothes, which had gotten soaked in an unexpected downpour in Hogsmeade, although he had to admit that the rain had made his brief outing all the more secure, since the streets had been virtually empty and the people in the shops had been more interested in drying off or discussing the sudden storm than in paying attention to the non-descript stranger who had wandered among them.

Once he was no longer damp, Severus transfigured his clothing back to normal, and removed the color charm he'd used on his hair. He couldn't use the "Mr. Jones" disguise in which he'd accompanied Lupin to retrieve Theodore lest Andromeda had done something like accusing him of kidnapping, but as it turned out, he needn't have worried. He'd been able to accomplish his errands without attracting any notice whatsoever, which suited him perfectly, and he now had information for Lupin.

In the two days since their misunderstanding, things had gotten back to normal, and while he'd not made any moves to act upon the new awareness between them, it was never far from his mind. He didn't want to rush and muck things up again, and so he'd decided to concentrate on getting to know the baby, finding that the small boy held a surprising fascination for him. Infants were uncomplicated; they had no hidden agendas, they didn't lie, and they couldn't mask their feelings. When Theodore was hungry, or angry, or happy, it was easy to see, and he held no grudges once his needs were met. It was all very forthright and direct, and Severus found it at once entrancing and disconcerting.

Lupin wasn't in the parlor, and so Severus moved toward the big bedroom, peering around the doorframe to see if Lupin was inside.

Remus finished tucking in Teddy, who was already fast asleep, apparently exhausted by a vigorous game of "I'm going to get your toes" Remus had played with him; Teddy was still too young to do much more than squeal and kick, but Remus found even that limited behavior endlessly amusing and fascinating. Satisfied that Teddy was settled, he straightened and turned, raising one eyebrow when he saw Severus standing in the door.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Fine. No problems," Severus replied quietly, not wanting to disturb the baby. He stepped inside so that he could peer around Lupin, looking down into the crib, an unconscious smile lifting one corner of his mouth as he saw Teddy sleeping peacefully. "Did you use enough of the diaper cream? And burp him well enough? It wouldn't do for him to get a bubble and a stomach ache."

"Yes and yes, although you can check behind me to make certain, if you like," Remus replied.

Severus lifted a brow, then stepped closer, leaning down slightly over the crib. He reached down with one hand and stroked one of the baby's soft cheeks with a gentle finger. "He looks so innocent. I don't know if I was ever this peaceful, even at his age."

"I'm sure you were." Remus turned his attention back to the sleeping infant, unconsciously smiling with obvious love for his son. "I don't think anyone is born miserable, but our peace is chipped away by life until there's precious little left to be had only for fleeting moments."

"Unless we take steps to change it," Severus replied. He straightened, wondering wistfully if Lupin would ever smile like that at him or for him. "When you're finished, I have information, if you'd like to talk."

Remus drew his wand and check to make certain the monitoring charm was still working properly, and then he tucked it away again and nodded. "He'll be out for a while, so we've got time to talk. Over tea, perhaps?"

"That sounds good," Severus replied. He turned and moved back into the parlor, then headed toward the kitchen. "I picked up some biscuits while I was out. The packaged ones are adequate, but I like freshly baked ones better. Hopefully I wasn't wrong in assuming that double chocolate would suit you?"

"You thought correctly," Remus replied, smiling. "Thank you, Severus. That was very thoughtful of you, and I appreciate it."

Severus felt a slight flush stain his cheeks, but he was pleased that Lupin was happy. "It was nothing," he replied. He bustled around the small kitchen, assembling the tea things, then levitating the tray. "Shall we go into the parlor? It's more comfortable in there."

"If you like," Remus said amiably, and he led the way to the parlor, taking his usual place at the end of the sofa.

Severus waved the tray toward the table, then took his place that the other end. It took only a minute to pour the tea and pass a cup over to Lupin, then he prepared his own, taking a fortifying sip. "Ah, that's better," he said, sighing and relaxing back against the cushions. "There's a beastly summer storm in Hogsmeade, and it's a relief to be out of it."

"I'm sorry you had to get out in that," Remus said, giving him a sympathetic look. "You'll have to keep on the lookout for any sign of a summer cold, if you took a chill."

"Oh, I'll be fine," Severus replied, although he was pleased that Lupin seemed to care. "It was worth going in. It seems there is a rumor that a war hero who was presumed dead has come back, and Harry Potter is looking for him."

Remus grimaced and took a fortifying sip of tea. "No doubt that explains the owls I've seen swooping around the area. Thank Merlin you've got this place warded to high heaven. The last thing I need is a barrage of letters telling me how distraught Andromeda is and how I ought to come back so everyone can make a fuss and then tell me what to do."

"It does appear to be saving you the trouble of tossing a lot of parchment into the fire," Severus agreed, one corner of his lips quirking up in dry amusement. "Ignore the lot of them; for the first time in your life, you're doing what you want to do, and damn anyone who would try to tell you differently. After what Andromeda said to you, I have to say I feel I was quite restrained in only stunning her, rather than using an Unforgivable. I just hope I never have cause to regret not doing so."

"As long as neither she nor anyone else ever figures out how to find us, then I doubt you'll have reason to regret it," Remus replied, reaching for a chocolate biscuit. "Did you hear anything else of interest or was that it?"

"That was it, pretty much, other than for variations on a theme," Severus replied. His eyes were irresistibly drawn to the sight of Lupin biting into the biscuit, as he remembered Lupin eating the chocolate he'd brought him about a lifetime ago. "But I was able to pick up something I'd had sent to General Delivery at the post office." He reached into his robes and withdrew a brown paper wrapped package. "Brochures and real estate listings for a number of places I've considering moving. I thought you might like to take a look at them with me."

"Good idea." Remus nodded and put his tea cup aside. "Now that I have Teddy back, there's nothing keeping me here, and given that Andromeda, Harry, and who knows who else are looking for me, I'll be happy to put as much space between myself and them as possible. Where did you have in mind?"

Severus nodded, then drew his wand and spelled open the package. A variety of brightly colored brochures and single-sheet house advertisements flowed out, and Severus chuckled. "I may have gotten carried away in my request. I basically asked for every interesting place I've ever heard of, some of which are no doubt unsuitable to take a child."

The sheer number of brochures made Remus' eyebrows climb almost to his hairline, and he glanced at Severus in amusement. "Well, as long as Siberia isn't on the list, I think it'll be fine. Children are remarkably resilient, and no doubt wherever you've chosen, children have been raised there for thousands of years."

"No, mostly tropical climes, actually." Severus pointed to one near the top, which showed a white-sand beach and a stretch of unbelievably blue ocean under the caption "Make Your Home in the Beautiful Bermuda Triangle!" "If I never have to endure another Scottish winter I will consider it a blessing." He glanced at Lupin, a teasing light in his eyes. "Hopefully you wouldn't object to me wearing sensible black bathing trunks rather than something colored in a way that would make my eyeballs bleed? If so, perhaps we should keep to more moderate areas."

"What you wear is your own choice, but I can't promise I won't indulge in a tropical print shirt or bathing suit of my own," Remus replied mildly. "If there's one thing nearly dying has taught me, it's that being sensible is overrated."

"Perhaps you're right," Severus said. Then he dropped his gaze, not really wanting to address the next part, but knowing it was necessary. "We should probably talk about the bond first, don't you think? It... well, it doesn't appear to be fading, and you're almost fully recovered."

"I've noticed that, yes," Remus said pensively. "I feel fine, but as far as I can tell, the strength of the bond hasn't lessened from the time I woke up until now. It feels the same from my perspective, which I think we can assume means it's not going to fade on its own."

Severus nodded. "Let me assure you again, I was not trying to bond you to me or myself to you, for that matter. I can only assume that the circumstances of both of us nearly dying and your lycanthropy combined to turn it into something completely different from what I had intended. I've researched it, trying to find something to indicate what would happen if we forcibly dissolved it if it didn't fade by itself."

"I know," Remus replied reassuringly. "As I've said before, I don't blame you for what happened. The bond was an unexpected side effect, and I'm aware of that." He paused and regarded Severus inquisitively. "Have you found anything useful?"

With a sigh, Severus shrugged. He didn't want to break the bond, to be honest, but for Lupin's sake, he had given it his best effort. "Since there isn't a case exactly like this one in any of the documentation I can find, I'm not sure. We could try to break it, and it would work and we'd both be fine. Or it might not work. Or... one or both of us might die. I might be able to make a better determination if I do more research, but at the moment, I'm afraid I simply can't tell."

Remus frowned, lost in thought for a moment, and when he spoke at last, his tone was thoughtful. "I'd rather not take an unnecessary risk with my life or yours if this is something we can live with. We've been through too much and had too close a shave already to tempt fate again."

"I can live with it," Severus replied with no hesitation. "But I also realize you've been pushed into too many things you don't want in your life, so I am going to continue to look for a way to break it. I am not like your wife; I have no desire to force you into anything, no matter what my own desires may be."

"If I choose to accept the bond, then you haven't forced me," Remus said, giving a pragmatic shrug. "I appreciate you considering my right to choose in the matter; that's more than most people have ever done. But I can live with the bond, too. It hasn't been an onerous burden. On the contrary, I feel more liberated than I have in years, perhaps decades. All things considered, I'd rather you didn't keep looking. I think we can make better use of our time in deciding where we're going to go and what we're going to do when we get there."

"All right. If that's what you'd like," Severus agreed slowly. Then he smiled almost shyly. "I have given some thought as to what to do. I can continue to brew, either magical or non-magical potions and ointments. If we select somewhere that has an established apothecary, I can try to become a supplier and augment that with postal orders. But what I would like, I think, is to have my own shop. I've put away money ever since I started teaching, and I drew it all out of Gringott's before the final battle. I had planned for an owl to go to Minerva after I'd been dead for a year, telling her where the money was and that it was to be used to help pay for half-blood students who might not be able to pay for their schoolbooks and other supplies for Hogwarts. As it is, I think we can make better use of it."

"I agree." Remus smiled ruefully and shrugged again. "Unfortunately, I can't contribute anything financially to the endeavor since I've never been able to save two knuts to rub together, much less build up a nest egg, but I can help in other ways. I've a good head for numbers, and I'm not bad with people. I could work the till while you create the stock."

Severus nodded, pleased with that suggestion. "That would work very well. If we can find an acceptable place, there would be room for Teddy while he's small, so that you can have him close to you. I could help as well, of course." He drew in a deep breath, unaware of the hope in his eyes. "If you think you could be happy in such a situation, I think we could make a go of it."

Remus was pleased by the idea of having Teddy with him instead of having to hand him over to a nanny or babysitter during working hours, and he nodded to offer reassurance to Severus. "Yes, I think I could be happy, and yes, I think we could make a go of it," he said. An impulse seized him, and he scooted closer to Severus' end of the sofa and leaned over to brush a light kiss against Severus' lips to seal the bargain.

The kiss took Severus by surprise, but it wasn't unwelcome, not at all. He was pleased Lupin thought he could be happy, despite it not being a circumstance of his choosing. "I want this to work, for both our sakes," he said huskily, his lips tingling so that he wanted to press his fingers to them to hold in the sensation. "I mean it about a fresh start. This is my chance... our chance, to escape the past and the mistakes we've made. I want to finally live rather than simply going through the motions." He hesitated for a moment, then reached out to cradle Lupin's cheek with one hand. "And I want you to tell me if I do something wrong. I know I'm not the easiest man in the world to get along with, but... I want to try. Because for the first time in decades, I feel as though I have something worth trying for."

"Hopefully you'll still feel it's worthwhile after dealing with the reality of living with a werewolf and an infant," Remus replied in a lighter tone. "But I'd like to start living rather than existing, too, and I want to break my old destructive patterns. If you catch me falling back into old habits, you'll need to tell me, and perhaps we can help each other to a better, happier way of living."

"It's a deal," Severus replied seriously. Then his eyes gleamed with a hint of wicked humor, and he leaned forward to capture Lupin's lips, kissing him more firmly and lingeringly, wanting Lupin to know that he meant every word he'd said.

Remus rested his hand lightly on Severus' knee as he returned the kiss, and he smiled when he drew back at last. "Definitely a good deal," he said warmly.

Severus felt breathless, enjoying the warmth of Lupin's hand on his knee and the way Lupin smiled. It seemed to bode well for the future. "Then all we have to do is pick a place and go," he said, scooting closer to Lupin on the sofa. "Wizarding or Muggle? Atlantic or Pacific?"

"I don't think there's any need for us to cut ties to the wizarding world entirely," Remus said, sliding his arm around Severus' shoulders and encouraging him to move even closer. "Just to _here_. As for Atlantic or Pacific, I don't have a preference, although a warmer climate sounds good to me, too. Didn't I see a brochure for the Bermuda Triangle? That sounds promising."

Severus didn't hesitate to place himself firmly against Lupin, a pleased little smirk on his lips. He leafed through the pamphlets and pulled out a few which highlighted the Bermuda Triangle, more than happy to fall in with what Lupin whatever Lupin wanted. "Here we are. Lovely scenery, unusual magical creatures, pirate ghosts, and balmy tropical nights. Sounds perfect to me... as long as you are there." He could feel his face heating at having made such a ridiculous, soppy comment, but he meant it.

Remus smiled, abashed and a little amazed that somehow he had become the focus of two people's affections when he was highly imperfect and nondescript and dangerous to boot, but apparently, it was true. "It sounds completely different to what we're accustomed to, which appeals to me. If we're going to change, we might as well change big."

"I'm in complete agreement," Severus replied, trailing a finger over the picture of a sandy beach, imaging the two of them there, walking along it hand in hand. Not so long ago, he would have rolled his eyes in disgust at himself for such a maudlin thought, but maybe he really was changing already. "There should be a description of properties in here somewhere. Or we can throw caution to the winds and I'll arrange for a portkey and we'll just go and settle it all when we get there. Impulsive and reckless doesn't sound like either of us, does it? But maybe it would work."

Remus' initial instinct was to be careful and make a solid plan, but that would mean staying here, where he no longer wanted to be, that much longer instead of breaking the final ties and moving on. Perhaps it was reckless, but after a lifetime of being careful and cautious, he was ready to recapture some of the sense of fun he'd fleetingly had during his early years at Hogwarts, when he was young and still had hope for a happy future.

"Get the portkey," he said, tightening his arm around Severus' shoulders. "We can rent a place until we find something permanent. One way or another, it'll work out. I'm sure of it."

Severus was a little surprised that Lupin seemed will to go along with his outlandish suggestion, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. "Tomorrow I'll go to Diagon Alley and get it," he said, nodding decisively. "We'll go and never look back, and we'll build the kind of life we both should have had from the start."

"That sounds like an excellent plan to me." Remus leaned over and brushed a kiss against Severus' cheek, nuzzling him affectionately. "Better late than never, right?"

"Definitely." Severus turned turned his head to look at Lupin, wondering how so simple and innocent a gesture like a kiss on his cheek could make his toes curl. His desire for Lupin was something he'd carried for most of his life, buried deep and often ignored, but Lupin's closeness now was awakening a need inside of him unlike anything he'd ever felt before. "There are many things I've waited a very long time for, things I never thought I'd get a chance to have," he continued, his voice deep and husky. He rested one hand on Lupin's leg, trailing his fingers caressingly over Lupin's knee and savoring the contact. "I think it's been worth the wait."

"I hope it will be." Remus' smile was wryly self-deprecating, but he shifted on the cushion, closing the last bit of distance between them. "It's been a while since I've been with another man. I tried to have a normal sex life with Tonks at first, but I always ended up closing my eyes and thinking about male Quidditch players I fancied instead, which I don't think was healthy for either of us."

"Even as limited as my own experience with relationships is, I believe I would have to agree," Severus replied. "I admit that it's been a while for me as well, but I can assure you that I would not be thinking about anyone except you." He gave Lupin's leg a squeeze that he hoped was both inviting and reassuring. "When you're ready, if that happens, I certainly hope you wish to be aware that I'm the one you are with."

"Of course I do," Remus said, his expression turning somber. "I wouldn't put myself or you through that. Believe me, I won't be closing my eyes or thinking about someone else or pretending you're someone else."

"Good." Severus was satisfied with that answer, and he smiled slightly. "I think you'll find that I am prepared to be quite undignified in the right circumstances. Noisy, even, if I happen to approve of what's being done. Just so you know."

Remus chuckled and covered Severus' hand with his own, giving Severus' fingers a light squeeze. "Touche," he acknowledged. "But that's very good to know. Dignity doesn't have any place in the bedroom, in my opinion."

"I quite agree," Severus replied. He turned his hand over beneath Remus' so that he could squeeze Remus' fingers in return. "I think that the key, at least for me, is trusting my partner. As you can imagine, it's been quite some time since I could say that about anyone, so in a way you weren't wrong in thinking sex was something I avoided. But I do trust you. I know that you wouldn't simply use me for what you can get out of me or trying to control me. That means I can finally anticipate something for the first time in many, many years."

"Well, I can't say I won't order you to strip or bend over, but somehow, I don't think that's the type of control you object to, is it?" Remus asked, remaining remarkably straight-faced.

"I believe I would find that kind of control tolerable," Severus replied, lifting a brow, pleased that Lupin seemed to be in a teasing mood. "I also have no objection to ropes, paddles, or rough play. Nor with dressing up in any way you find appealing."

"Oh, really?" Remus mirrored Severus, raising his own eyebrow at that statement. "That does sound rather appealing. Perhaps we should start simple, though, and work our way up to the ropes, paddles, and role-play once we've had time to enjoy the basics after such a long drought."

"If you prefer," Severus drawled, smirking slightly. "I believe you'll find me quite flexible. In many ways."

"And you already know I have an accommodating personality," Remus replied with a smile. "I think we'll get on just fine."

"Mmmm... yes, I do believe we will." Severus gave Lupin's hand another squeeze. Tomorrow he'd get a Portkey that would take them away from this place forever, and they could start a new life. One free of all the fears and prejudices they'd faced for years, leaving behind the baggage they'd both carried and starting over again. He'd never imagined when he had decided to give up his life to help Lupin that he'd actually end up achieving his heart's desire, but he had. He couldn't promise he'd always be that selfless, but so long as he had Lupin, he thought, perhaps, it might be worth giving it a try.

-end-


End file.
